Amnesia
by Lakshmibai
Summary: Buffy didn't remember how she got here, and she's not sure exactly what she's meant to have done, but she knows she's in a lot of trouble. She's just been arrested. For murder.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy or Miami, or anything that is recognised.

A/N: I used to love CSI Miami. Really, really love it. I looked forward to a new episode every week and could hardly wait in between seasons. I loved the team dynamic: Horatio as team dad, protective and knowing, Alexx as the caring team mom, Calleigh as the smart, intelligent daughter and Delko and Speed, and then Delko and Ryan, as the bickering, yet ultimately close, younger brothers. Then things got silly. Horatio married a woman he'd met a grand total of maybe 5 times, she was murdered the day after he married her and then Horatio discovered he had a son, and ended up faking his own death. Frankly, it was too ridiculous, even for me. Which is a long winded way of saying that this takes place in Season 5, after Marisol's little walk-on role, but she won't be getting a mention here (just so I can include Natalia, because I quite like her) but long before the total stupidity of the newly discovered son plot.

Sorry for the rant there, but the lack of quality in what was once my favourite programme really annoys me!

For Buffy, this is after _Chosen_, but AU after that. It pays no attention to the comics, which I haven't read. It also assumes that Angel and his crew all died to save the world at the end of _Not Fade Away_, destroying Wolfram & Hart in LA, but not the whole organisation.  


* * *

  
She remembered getting the call. In the aftermath of Sunnydale, the Scoobies had worked hard to locate the Slayers and put together some sort of organisation to support them. Buffy had ended up in London, working with Giles to reform the Watchers' Council into something that would actually be of use to Slayers, after initially travelling around Europe to help find the new Slayers. To her surprise, the greatest challenge had been to find people to be Watchers - with the explosion in Slayer numbers, they needed more Watchers than ever before. And since Watchers were trained rather than born, that meant setting up recruitment, training and the boring things like salaries and pensions.

Buffy knew they were doing good work, but she was bored within a month. So she remembered the call. One of the younger Slayers, still living at home with her mom, had called for help, saying that a pack of vampires had descended on her town and she couldn't cope with their numbers on her own. Giles had taken one look at the pleading on her face and agreed that she could go to help out. That was why she flew out to Miami.

She also remembered the first few nights' patrol. Alejandra, the Miami Slayer, was only fourteen, but had gone with Buffy, to help orientate her and point out where her vampire sighting had been. They had had limited luck those first nights, but had dusted a couple of vamps each and spotted the crypt where the pack lived. Buffy and Alejandra had made plans to come back and deal with them once they had more information.

Buffy also remembered enjoying the heat and sunshine of Miami, long overdue after a long, cold, damp British winter. She had enjoyed her days, wandering along South Beach and Collins Avenue and seen a couple of clubs she intended to try once the vamps were dealt with. She remembered sunbathing in a micro bikini and enjoying the attention of local boys as she strolled along the beachfront. She remembered liking Miami.

What she didn't remember was why she had been in the apartment, holding a bloody knife, standing over the corpses of two men. She had stood there, blinking, trying to figure out where she was, who they had been and what the hell was going on, when the door burst open behind her and three armed cops burst into the room, yelling at her to put the knife down and put her hands in the air.

Lost, disorientated and utterly confused, Buffy had done what they told her.

*****

She had been handcuffed and driven downtown to the modern, glass fronted building that housed the Crime Lab. There, she had been left in an interrogation room, and she sat there, wondering what had happened, and how she was going to explain this one to Giles.

In the end, her increasingly worried thoughts were interrupted by two tall men, both bearing the gold badge of the Detective. One was tall, broad and balding, hard brown eyes glaring at her. The other was slightly shorter, lean and elegant, with vibrant red hair and very bright, very direct blue eyes. His gaze was far less confrontational than the taller detective and he was the one who spoke first.

"Miss Summers, my name is Lieutenant Horatio Caine, and this is Detective Frank Tripp. Can you tell us what happened?" His voice was gentle and understanding, his tone suggesting that she could tell him anything. That if she confessed, he would help her. "Why did you attack those men?"

"I didn't," she said firmly. This was a mistake and it would all be sorted out, she told herself just as firmly. All a mistake. "I don't know how I got there. I don't even know where there is!"

The taller detective glared harder. "Amnesia? Aw, hell, Horatio, can't you just charge her and be done with it?"

"Amnesia?" Lieutenant Caine ignored Tripp for the moment. Instead, he sat down opposite Buffy and looked at her consideringly. "What exactly do you mean?"

"I mean I don't remember! Last thing I remember, I was at my hotel, getting ready to go out, and then bam! Nothing until your guys ran in, waving guns and yelling at me." Buffy felt her eyes well up with tears and blinked them angrily away. She didn't have time for tears.

"Your hotel?"

"I'm staying at the Coral Beach Spa," she said tiredly.

"Nice hotel," Horatio said with a smile. "Are you on holiday?"

"Just visiting," she said with a shrug.

"Do you know Stephen Matthias or his boyfriend Rick Dunning?"

"Who?"

"The men you killed," Tripp said shortly and Caine shot him a look that Buffy couldn't read.

"I didn't kill anyone," she protested, feeling the tears threaten again. She was not a killer. Not like that.

"You'd never met them before?"

"No!"

"So it was a fit of rage that made you stab both of them four times?" Tripp asked, leaning forward in an attempt to intimidate her.

"I didn't do it!" She turned to Lieutenant Caine, the one who seemed to be taking her story seriously. "Please, I really didn't do it. I don't know how I got there, I don't know who they are, were, whatever, and I don't know what's going on!" She took a deep, shuddering breath and said with as much conviction as possible, "I am not a killer."

Tripp snorted, but Caine nodded slightly. "Miss Summers, we're going to get someone in here to process you, to check for evidence. Is that OK?"

"Whatever," she said tiredly.

"OK then." He paused and then said, "What is the very last thing you do remember?"

She thought back carefully. "I was getting ready to go out and hit the shops. I'd just dried my hair-"

"Riveting," Tripp interrupted, only to shut up at a glare from Caine.

"Go on, Miss Summers. Every detail could be important."

"Um, well, I had just decided what to wear," she glanced down and frowned, "which wasn't this. Seriously, like I would ever wear brown pants with a black top? Total clash."

"Miss Summers," Caine said, hiding a smile.

"Oh right. Um, well, I'd decided on a rocking pair of jeans, they're totally fab, and then room service rang to say that they were sending up some flowers that had arrived and then the flowers arrived." Buffy frowned. "It said they were from Giles, but why would he send me flowers?"

"Giles is?"

"My employer," she said carefully. "We've been friends years though. Anyway, the flowers were really pretty, big white lilies and I put them on the table and went to do my make-up."

"And that's it?"

"Well, I can tell you I put on mascara and lip gloss, but yeah, that's about it."

"Thank you, Miss Summers. One of my colleagues will be in shortly to process you for evidence." Caine smiled at her as he stood up. "Is there anyone we can call for you?"

Buffy hesitated, but decided she should sit it out for a bit longer, to see what the situation really was before she gave Giles a heart attack. "No, I'm good."

*****

Horatio watched Buffy Anne Summers through the two-way mirror into the interrogation room. Frank Tripp was right; amnesia was a ridiculous excuse for getting away with murder. Except Buffy Summers did not seem to be lying. Call it intuition, call it a hunch, but he believed her. Very few people were that good at acting. She had looked genuinely distressed at the accusation that she had killed two men, and her account of the last few hours she remembered were detailed and concise.

"That's her, Horatio?" Calleigh walked over to him, her kit in hand.

"Yes. Doesn't look the type to kill two men in cold blood, does she?"

"Most of 'em don't," Calleigh reminded him with a bright grin.

"True," he agreed sadly. "But there's something different about her, Calleigh. I think she's telling the truth."

"That she really doesn't remember?"

"Hmm. Whether that's because she's innocent, as she claims, or because whatever caused her to kill those men was so traumatic that her mind has refused to remember it, is another matter." He checked his watch. "I'll take Ryan with me to her hotel room, see what we can find. Eric and Natalia should be done with the scene soon and we'll see what Alexx made of the autopsies. Be thorough."

"Always am," she smiled. She watched him walk away before turning to study Buffy. The girl was short and slight, surely barely physically capable of killing two men, both of whom had been much bigger and broader than she was. She checked Buffy's driving licence again to check her age - she didn't look 26, she looked far younger, barely out of college. She would be beautiful too, if she wasn't so pale that her skin had gone grey and the glitter of tears that shone in her eyes.

Calleigh watched as the girl stood up and walked to the window, her arms folded protectively across her chest as her shoulders trembled with the effort of not crying. Calleigh sighed; she was coming around to Horatio's point of view. The girl was acting too naturally distraught when no one was watching. Maybe she really couldn't remember.

Still, whatever the truth was, Calleigh had faith that the evidence would be found. One way or another, the truth would come out. It always did, in the end.


	2. Chapter 2

Natalia surveyed the devastation in the apartment with an arched eyebrow. Chairs had been overturned, mirrors and vases smashed and blood spatter had been sprayed over two walls. Whatever had happened, it had been one hell of a fight. Eric was already at work, charting the blood drops that covered the floor leading towards one of the bedrooms, but leaned out to wave at her.

"Hey, 'Talia. You want to start on prints, and I'll make my way over to you following the blood trail."

"Sounds good to me," Natalia agreed, carefully setting her kit down and pulling out the fingerprint powder. She dusted the door handle carefully, pulling away three clear sets of prints. "Got some good ones here, Eric. Did you see the size of Summers? You really think she did this?"

He shrugged. "She was caught with the knife in her hand, standing over the vics. Who else do you think did it?"

"Tripp said she's claiming amnesia."

"Tripp also said she was lying through her teeth," Eric said with a grin.

"But she's tiny! And both Matthias and Dunning were reasonably big guys."

"Calleigh could have taken them," Eric pointed out.

"Calleigh likes guns and knows how to use them."

"Hey, I'm not saying she definitely did do it, I'm just saying it looks that way." Eric turned back to the blood spatter. "And whoever did do it was really angry. Each of the vics was stabbed four times, and there's a lot of cast-off spatter here."

Natalia was slowly making her way towards him, dusting as she went. Catching sight of something that sparkled, she bent down to peer under one of the couches. "Hey, Eric? Come take a look at this." Reaching in carefully, she pulled out a fragment of coloured glass. It was a very bright green, and oddly shaped, almost a perfect circle. "What do you think this is?"

"Not a clue. Bag, tag and figure it out at the lab," Eric advised her.

*****

Horatio stared at the large bouquet of white lilies that stood in a generic china vase on the table in Buffy's hotel room. At least she had been telling the truth about that. There was also a pair of tight blue jeans, liberally dotted with crystals, lying on the bed, which again backed up her story of intending to wear a different outfit to the one she was arrested in.

"Mr Wolfe. Have you found anything?"

Ryan peered out of the bathroom and shook his head. "Sorry, H, I got nothing except the world's biggest supply of make-up. Girl likes her eyeshadow." At Horatio's slightly disapproving look, he coughed and went back to the previous subject. "There's nothing suspect in here - no drugs, no signs of using, no weapons. You get anything?"

"No. The only odd thing is this suitcase." Horatio gestured to the bright pink case in question. "It's locked somehow and very heavy."

"You thinking weapons?"

"I'm thinking that if I can't lift that on my own, a short, slight girl like Miss Summers would definitely struggle."

"We're taking it back to the lab?"

"We are," Horatio confirmed. "As long as both of us can lift it, of course." Ryan looked at him oddly, but it took both of them to pick the suitcase up, muscles straining and the load limit light in the elevator flickered on for a second when they left the hotel.

*****

Buffy liked Calleigh. The blonde CSI was as short as her, and managed to be both businesslike and sympathetic. Calleigh kept up a reassuring patter, explaining everything that she was doing before she did it, and Buffy let her take fingerprints, a DNA swab and scrape under her nails for any trace evidence without any arguments. When it came to the clothing, Buffy felt she had to object.

"No way, no how and no way. Uh-uh."

"Miss Summers, we need to fully process your clothes," Calleigh said with a smile.

"So where does that translate to me wearing the fugly things you've got there?" Buffy gestured to the prison regulation orange jumpsuit and blue slip on sneakers that Calleigh had brought with her.

"Because that's all we've got," Calleigh replied, hiding a wider smile.

"And you won't lend me some of yours because?"

"Because it's against the rules."

"But that's ugly! And orange. It's going to clash with my tan," Buffy pointed out, with what she felt was perfect logic. "I spent ages getting my tan back. Well, three days, but so not the point! The point is, you might have some yummy cops here that I might want to, you know, and I'll be in orange! Which, I might add, is nobody's colour."

Calleigh giggled and tried to look extra stern to make up for that slip. "Look, we'll process them as quickly as possible, and I'll call Horatio and ask him to pick up some spare clothes for you."

"Horatio the 'I believe in the power of dark suits'? Sheesh." Buffy sighed. "Fine, that will have to do. But if the man of my dreams goes off me because he saw me in orange, I'm blaming you."

"Fair enough," Calleigh allowed, escorting her to the bathroom to change. In the orange jumpsuit, Buffy looked even younger and more vulnerable, making Calleigh hope that she really was innocent. A girl like her wouldn't last five minutes in jail. As she escorted Buffy back to the interview room, she called Ryan and asked him to pick up a pair of jeans and a top for Buffy and was amused to see the girl give her a sheepish smile.

"Thanks. You didn't have to do that."

"Innocent until proven guilty," Calleigh reminded her lightly. "And I wouldn't be seen dead in orange either."

Buffy smiled as the CSI left to test the evidence she had just collected. She really did like her. Now all she had to hope was that all the evidence would show that she had nothing to do with this, that it was all a big misunderstanding and that she was allowed to go. Then she would never have to mention this little hiccup to Giles.

*****

They met in the layout room, all six bearing folders of results and photos. Horatio watched Eric and Ryan walk in together, bickering about who took the longest to run trace comparisons, and fought the urge to roll his eyes. Those two were worse than Speed and Delko had ever been. As always, a pang of grief hit him when he thought of the young man who had died in his arms.

Giving himself a mental shake, he turned his attention back to their current case. "Ladies first," he said with a smile, turning to Alexx. "Alexx? What have you got?"

The beautiful, willowy African-American ME took a sip of her tea before she answered. "Pretty standard cause of death on this one, Horatio. Stephen Matthias was stabbed four times and the second blow bisected the hepatic vein in his stomach. It wasn't immediately fatal, but that was the one that killed him. Rick Dunning took two in the shoulder, one of which nicked the edge of the carotid artery. Both men would have bled out in minutes."

"Defensive wounds?"

"Both had several shallow cuts on their hands and wrists, likely from defensive wounds," she replied. "I also took samples from under their fingernails. Matthias took a pretty good chunk out of his attacker, so hopefully that should match with our suspect. I'd imagine, from the angle and depth of the wounds, that our attacker is above average in strength and yet relatively short."

"This short?" Ryan asked, passing over Buffy's arrest jacket, showing her height to be 5'2".

"Oh my," Alexx said with a small grin. "Well, maybe not that short, but definitely shorter than the victims."

"Time of death, Alexx?"

"Around eleven o'clock this morning. Give or take."

"Hmm, so that puts it at the same time as the 911 we got, calling us to a disturbance at the scene. Eric, did you get anything from that call?"

"AV are still working on it, H, but it's a man's voice and you can hear a woman yelling in the background. Cooper's working on enhancing it some more, but it's going to take some time."

"Calleigh? How is our suspect?"

Calleigh hesitated. "I really don't see her as a cold-blooded killer, Horatio. She's nice and funny and, I don't know, only that she just doesn't seem the type."

He gave her a small smile. "I meant, did you get any useful evidence from her?"

"Oh. Right. Well, she let me take her prints and DNA without any problems. Prints confirm that she is indeed Buffy Anne Summers, aged 26, born in Los Angeles."

"Wait. She has a record?"

"It's a government employment one," Calleigh explained. "From what I can make out, she got involved with a military unit while at college and they put her prints on file." She handed the printout to Horatio who frowned.

"A 202 area code. Washington DC."

"Why would the army, or the Feds, be interested in a college kid?" Eric wondered.

"You know what? I think by accessing this file, I think we're going to find out." Horatio shook his head. Government interference. If there was one thing he hated about his job, it was bureaucratic interference. "What else, Calleigh?"

"Her clothes have got traces of blood on, and I'm waiting on Valera to confirm whether it belongs to our vics. Horatio, she really seems like a sweet kid."

"I know. Eric, Natalia, did you get anything from the scene?"

"Lot of prints and spatter," Eric shrugged. "Seemed pretty standard for now. Summers' prints are there, but then we already knew she was at the scene. We have her prints on the door handle, on the knife and on the coffee table. It doesn't look like she went any further into the apartment."

"The knife has been confirmed as the murder weapon?"

"Yeah, H," Ryan answered. "Serration on the blade matches the wounds, as does the hilt markings."

"Good. Well, our search of her hotel room gave us the flowers that she mentioned in her story, and a very heavy suitcase that the Bomb Squad are currently investigating."

"The Bomd Squad, H? A little overkill, isn't it?" Eric joked.

Horatio shook his head. "There's a locking device on that suitcase that I haven't seen before. The padlock seems to be magnetised somehow, as any attempt to put a lock-pick near the lock results in the pick being forced away, like trying to push two poles of a magnet together. Ed at the Bomb Squad is scanning it for explosives before they go back to brute force as the only option." He looked down at the reports on the evidence and sighed. "I don't have a choice, do I? We're going to have to charge her."

*****

Buffy looked up expectantly as Horatio walked back into the interview room, followed by Tripp. This would be the moment that they admitted it was all a mistake, that she could go back to her hotel. Then she could go find Alejandra and get on with the real reason she was in Miami.

"Stand up please," Tripp said grimly and Buffy went cold. This wasn't the script she had expected.

"Buffy Summers, I am charging you with the murders of Stephen Matthias and Richard Dunning," Horatio said heavily. Calleigh was right - she simply didn't seem like a murderer to him. Buffy had gone so pale he thought she might faint. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney….."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Major apologies to everyone waiting for an update: I'll be honest, I remembered to update on Twisting the Hellmouth and shamefully forgot to update here. So, I'll post it all in a couple of big chunks. Thanks to anyone with the patience to stick with me and, um, sorry!

* * *

Buffy sat in the holding cell, shocked that this had gone this far. She hadn't done anything, so how could they be charging her? Calleigh had said that if she co-operated it would all be cleared up faster, that she would be proved innocent. Of course, Calleigh had added that this was only true if she actually was innocent, but that doubt had never crossed Buffy's mind.

Now though, now that she had been actually charged with murder, now the doubts were coming. She had no memory of the day at all, nothing beyond about half-past ten that morning. Nothing. Nothing until the police came in to arrest her. So maybe she had done what they said she did. Maybe she killed them.

After all, all the fingerprints and DNA and stuff said she did it. She had been holding a bloody knife when the police came in.

No! No, she though fiercely, she was not a killer. She did not attack humans. She was the Slayer, a hero. On the side of the light. She killed the bad guys, the demons and vamps. Not humans, never humans. That was what bad people did. People who weren't her.

Except…except Faith had killed the Deputy Mayor and hadn't known he was human.

But she wasn't Faith, she knew. She wasn't Faith, she had never been Faith, who had been out of control and wild and uncaring about who she hurt. She was Buffy, the good one. OK, so Faith was back on the side of the good guys these days, but that was beside the point.

What if she had killed those guys by accident, just as Faith had done all those years ago?

What if she had thought they were demons, that she had to kill them?

What if she had just got angry?

Thinking a thousand what-ifs, Buffy leaned her head back against the walls of her cell, exhausted by the worry. She sighed as she realised she had just been putting off the inevitable; things weren't going to work out without any drama, and it was time to call Giles. His reaction was unlikely to be pretty.

* * *

Horatio stared at the collection of government agents in front of him in bemusement. The printout of Buffy's record had shown that she was flagged by the federal government, but he still hadn't expected a three-star General, two FBI agents and the local DOD contact to converge on his office and start demanding access to her interviews and to see her evidence.

"There's no possible reason to give you that level of access," he explained mildly. "This is Miami. They were Miami residents, there is no military or national security reason behind the attack, and Miss Summers is not flagged as a potential terrorist. Why should I let you in?"

"Because, Caine," Agent Bob Page, Department Of Defence, said, leaning forward, hands on Horatio's desk, "Buffy Summers is a potential threat. We need to contain that threat."

"She's a 26 year old college drop-out," he replied, still keeping his tone mild. "She has no priors, and is only flagged because of a military programme at her college. There is no potential threat there."

"What precisely do you know about that military programme?" the general barked, looking frightened and Horatio wondered what on earth had happened at UC Sunnydale.

"No more than I need to," he told him firmly and watched as the General tried to decide if that was a good thing or not.

Calleigh poked her head around his office door. "Horatio, we've got someone else asking about Buffy Summers. Someone called Rupert Giles."

Giles was the name of her employer, he remembered, the one who was supposed to have sent the flowers. "Show him round, Cal," he smiled. "He might as well join the party." If anything, the general was now looking more frightened than before.

Rupert Giles was of a similar age to Horatio, he judged, and a similar build, both tall and slim. Dressed conservatively in a smart, grey pinstripe suit, he reminded Horatio of a senior lawyer from expensive English law chambers. Glasses in one hand, Giles polished them absently, before putting them on and looking around the room. An amused smile lit his face as he looked around.

"Quite the collection of federal agents, Lieutenant Caine," he commented dryly. "All for one murder?"

"Apparently so, Mr Giles. Although it's technically two murders. Perhaps you can shed some light on why the FBI, the DOD and the US Army are all so interested in your employee?"

"No," Giles said softly, looking straight at the general. "I really don't think I will." Which was not the same thing as saying he couldn't, Horatio noted. "General Arthur, I doubt this has anything to do with you and Buffy will doubtless be less than impressed at your presence, once she is freed."

The general went another shade paler but stood his ground. "She's a threat. She knows about…"

"Well, so I do, but I do hope that I'm not classed as a threat." Giles' voice was still soft and polite, but there was an undertone of menace that was impossible to ignore. "Perhaps you and your colleagues would like to take the opportunity to leave now. Believe me, I am more than capable of dealing with this without your interference."

Both FBI agents and the DOD man looked annoyed, but General Arthur sighed. "We'll be in touch, Mr Giles. And we'll be keeping a very close eye on this. We all remember what happened with Faith Lehane."

"Faith was given an unconditional pardon, General," Giles said, still in that deceptively calm voice. Then he turned to face Horatio, effectively dismissing the others, who all looked outraged, but left the room at the urging of the General. "Buffy didn't do this, Lieutenant. She simply doesn't have it in her."

Horatio wondered at the absolute conviction in his voice. Employers were rarely that concerned about their staff. "How did you find out she'd been charged? As far as I am aware, she hasn't asked for a lawyer, or her phone call yet."

Giles smiled slightly. "The alert that seems to have ricocheted through Washington at Buffy's arrest meant that one of our old friends there heard and called me immediately."

"Who?"

"Major Riley Finn, if you must know. Buffy knew him at college."

"Hmm." Horatio tipped his head to one side to study the man a little closer. Giles gave the impression of being very much at ease and in control, but lines of tension radiated from his eyes and his shoulders were hunched and tense. Not as relaxed as he would have everyone believe. "One quick question: did you send her flowers?"

"What? No. Should I have?" Giles frowned, distracted

"I was just wondering. Miss Summers is currently awaiting a bail hearing. I suspect you will want to arrange legal representation for her."

"I want to see her."

Horatio smiled thinly. "You're not her lawyer, so I'm afraid we can't allow that at the moment." Giles looked like her was about to object, but decided against it. Once he had left, Horatio dialled Natalia's number. "Miss Boa Vista? Run a search on the name Faith Lehane please. She's connected to Buffy Summers somehow, so let's see what we can find out."

* * *

Giles stepped outside and momentarily enjoyed the heat of the sun on his shoulders. Then he sighed and rubbed his forehead, wondering what on earth had happened. How Buffy had ended up arrested and charged with a double murder, when she was only meant to deal with a pack of vampires that were too much for a fourteen year old to handle - Giles was aware of the innate irony that she had come to Miami to kill at least twenty and had been arrested for killing two. But what was he going to do? The police here seemed worryingly competent, which suggested that they hadn't simply picked Buffy by chance. There must be some evidence that she was involved, but Giles had no doubt that Buffy was totally innocent. He had meant what he said - she simply didn't have it in her.

Now he needed to work out what had happened. And for that, he would need some backup.

"Willow?"

Willow had picked up almost instantly and began chattering, "Giles! What's going on? Is it true that Buffy got arrested? What's she meant to have done? Have you sorted in out yet? Is Miami as lovely as they say? I'd love to visit, but I've never had the chance, but it always looks so lovely on the TV, with all the Art Deco buildings and beaches and everything. Giles? Giles? Are you still there?"

"Willow, I think we're going to need your help here," Giles said and heard her sharp intake of breath. "No, not like that. At least, I don't think like that. I simply meant I need a sharp mind and someone who is well versed in research."

"Oh. Oooh. Buffy really is in trouble then?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I'll be there in ten. Do you want me to bring anyone or anything?"

"One of those dread machines would be useful."

"You mean my laptop?"

"I mean whatever it is that allows you to use the internet and other arcane methods." Giles smiled, unable to resist teasing her a little. He would never be proficient, but his time at the forefront of the New Watcher's Council had meant that he had needed to learn.

"Shall I get Dawnie?"

"She's busy at university, so I don't think we should worry her just yet."

"Xander?"

"Still in Africa. Again, let's not worry too many people unduly."

"Giles, what about Faith? I mean, if it goes wrong, if we need to break Buffy out of there, we may need her expertise."

Giles sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know. That might be necessary, but I don't think Buffy would welcome her presence."

"Nooo, they're still not the bestest of buds, are they?"

"Not exactly. Just yourself then, Willow."

"Be there in ten minutes, Giles." Willow's teleportation devices had been a godsend for the New Council, making intercontinental travel possible in the blink of an eye.

As he hung up, Giles once again thanked whatever power was watching over him, that he had met such wonderful young people as Willow and Xander. Buffy had had no choice in her destiny, but faced it regardless with courage and wit, but Xander and Willow had volunteered to fight, and had never backed down. Now they were as important as ever. Xander was in Africa, rounding up the Slayers that had been activated there, and from the sounds of his reports, causing quite the political stir. Willow was continuing her studying, gaining ever greater self-knowledge and inner power, and was a useful threat for whenever the remnants of the old Council disliked the direction he was moving in. He would never be able to do this without all three of them. Which meant he needed to get Buffy out of jail fast. Which meant he needed a good lawyer.


	4. Chapter 4

When a lawyer appeared outside her holding cell, Buffy's initial thought was that Giles must have called one for her, before she remembered that she hadn't called Giles yet, she was still some way from the front of the queue to use the phone, so he couldn't possibly know. Besides, she thought with narrowed eyes, no way would Giles send a demon lawyer.

The lawyer looked perfectly human, until she looked closely and saw the narrow, vertical pupils in his eyes and the slight lisp that suggested he was hiding a forked tongue. She narrowed her eyes and stood up, not willing to let anyone see weakness, especially not a demon.

"Yeah? You staring at me for a reason?" Belligerence was always a good opener, she knew, having learned a few lessons from Faith.

"Yeth. Ahem, yes. My name is Clarence Jones. I'm your lawyer."

"Really?" Buffy arched an eyebrow. "I haven't asked for a lawyer yet. And that isn't your real name."

"Well, not exactly." To her surprise, the demon blushed. "It's actually Clarenthanaxthis of the Regullion clan, but everyone calls me Clarence."

"Uh huh." Because her day couldn't get any worse, they were interrupted by another lawyer. This one, she thought, was definitely human, and very annoyed to find someone else already speaking to her. Tall, handsome and smartly dressed, this was her picture of a perfect lawyer, especially when compared with Clarence's slightly battered suit.

"Ms Summers? My name is James Woodrow. I've been asked to represent you at your bail hearing tomorrow."

Clarence glared at him. "I'm Ms Thummers' lawyer."

Woodrow sneered, "You can't even say her name, demon."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! You know he's a demon?" Buffy put her hands on her hips and stared. This was getting weirder. "And what do you mean my bail hearing isn't until tomorrow? I have to spend the night in here?"

"I'm from Wolfram and Hart," Woodrow said smoothly. "We're experts in all legal matters, but are particularly well placed to defend the Slayer in her hour of need. And the docket was already full for today. Your hearing is scheduled for nine thirty tomorrow morning."

"And what firm are you from, skippy?" she asked Clarence.

"Hernandez, Jones and Martell. It's a little downtown firm, just the three of us. We're very good though," he added earnestly and to her great surprise, Buffy found herself liking Clarence, creepy eyes and all.

"OK then. Clarence, you're hired. James, you're fired. And you can tell the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart that I don't ever want or need their help. Understand?"

"You're making a mistake."

"Threatening the Slayer? Big no-no."

"A simple statement of fact," he covered easily. "My firm would guarantee a not guilty verdict, regardless of the truth. The demon here will struggle to make bail for you."

"I'll take my chances," she shrugged lightly, hoping that Clarence would be better than he looked. Woodrow huffed, but turned on his heel and left. She turned back to her lawyer. "So. Who hired you? Cause I definitely didn't."

"Rupert Gileth, excuse me, Giles called and asked me to represent you. My clan have always had excellent memories, making us naturally good lawyers," he explained. "In several cases, we helped draft the legislation in the first place. One of my ancestors helped write the Bill of Rights."

Buffy looked at him blankly. "Right. But Giles called? That means he knows?"

"Mister Giles came into our office," Clarence said, looking awed. "The Rupert Giles. In my office! Mother will be so proud."

"Giles is here?"

"Of courthse." Clarence coughed. "Thorry about the lisp. It comes and goes, but I'm trying to lose it." He stuck his tongue out to show the deep vee in it. "It's not always eathy."

Buffy smiled for the first time in hours. "I'm in jail. A lisping lawyer in the least of my problems. Giles is really here?"

"And Miss Rosenberg."

"Willow too?" Buffy sat back down on the narrow bunk and sighed. "That's OK then. They'll sort this out."

Clarence took out a notepad and pen. "Now, I need you to tell me everything you remember, from the moment you woke up this morning."

* * *

Willow and Giles had booked themselves into the same hotel that Buffy had stayed in and met in Giles' room to discuss tactics. Willow already had her laptop running and was searching for any local news on the murders. Another search programme was finding background details on the two victims.

"She will get bail, won't she?"

"I'm not sure, Willow," Giles admitted, taking off his glasses to rub his tired eyes. "She's a tourist, with no ties to the city, so she might be considered a flight risk."

Willow's eyes narrowed, but she smiled innocently at Giles. "But her lawyer is good, right?"

"Oh yes, Clarence comes from long family of lawyers and comes highly recommended. It's the police that worry me. Lieutenant Caine and his team seem highly competent and if they are as good as they seem, they likely have plenty of evidence that she was involved."

"But Buffy didn't do it!"

"I know that, you know that; our problem is convincing everyone else of that fact."

* * *

Although Giles was unaware of it, he did not need to convince Horatio or Calleigh of Buffy's innocence. Frank Tripp was still convinced that she had done it, as were Eric and Ryan, but as Natalia nervously approached Horatio's office, Calleigh suspected they had another convert to the 'Buffy Summers was set-up' group.

"H? Calleigh? Do you have a moment?"

"Sure, Natalia, come in." Calleigh smiled at the other woman warmly, aware that she was still nervous and unsure of her place in the team after being a plant for the FBI. The way that everybody had rallied around her when she was accused of murdering her ex-husband had helped, but Natalia was still occasionally unsure.

"Um, we found this at the crime scene today and it's been puzzling me." She held out an evidence bag containing the circle of green glass. "I've printed it, but it's clean. There was some white, powdery trace, but the GCMS is backed up and the IR scope couldn't identify it, so I'm still waiting for a result. The thing is," she hesitated, not wanting to sound foolish, "the thing is, it just feels important. And I know that sounds stupid."

Horatio took the evidence bag and held it up to the light, noting the way the glass shimmered. "Hmm. This could be something important, you're right. Where was it found?"

"Under the couch, near to Matthias' body."

"Let's see it." Calleigh took the bag and immediately said, "You're right, this might be really important." Then she blinked. "Why do all of us think that a piece of glass is so important?"

Horatio stared at her before he frowned. "Good point. OK, let's think about this. Could it have been dropped by one of the victims?"

"It's the only piece of glass that colour in the apartment," Natalia countered.

"So brought in by the killer. Buffy Summers didn't have anything like this either on her, or in her hotel room."

"What about in her case?"

"Bomb Squad are still trying to open it," Horatio said with a grin. "Apparently, it's now a grudge match between them and it. Whatever the lock is, it's already fried one of their X-Rays."

"We could just ask her to open it," Calleigh noted.

"And have them admit defeat? Cal, you have met the Bomb Squad, right? Besides, we just charged her with a double homicide. I doubt she's feeling helpful."

Calleigh hid a grin as she remembered that Horatio had used to be on that very squad, and wasn't too good at admitting when they were fighting a losing battle either, but she held her tongue.

Natalia brought them back to the evidence. "So the glass could have come from her case."

"What did the powder look like?"

"Really, Horatio, why are you so convinced that the glass is that important? We have other evidence as well."

Calleigh watched them discuss the glass circle in bemusement. They had totally ignored her concern and gone straight back to discussing the glass, as though it was the single most important piece of evidence they had collected. But why had they automatically reacted like that? And why did she still feel like it was deeply important? She had to really concentrate to shake off those feelings.

Calleigh wasn't religious, didn't believe in magic and thought the supernatural was a lot of hokum. But she did believe in karma, and had seen too many odd things as a cop to completely discount something, so for want of a better theory, she decided she'd better do a little research on hypnosis.


	5. Chapter 5

The court bailiff called out, "Docket number 3856. Buffy Summers, two counts murder in the first degree."

Judge Winston Palmer looked over his half-moon spectacles at the tiny blonde in front of him. Dressed in an orange jumpsuit, her hair pulled back in a pony-tail, she looked vulnerable, frightened and incapable of hurting a fly, much less killing two people. But, if she had been charged…. "Quite the charge sheet for a young lady, Miss Summers. How do you plead?"

Clarence Jones stood up next to the girl. He was a competent enough lawyer, and had a decent swing on the golf course, so Palmer was prepared to like him. "Clarence Jones for the defence, Your Honour. My client pleads not guilty."

Palmer looked across to the District Attorney. "Bail?"

"We ask for remand, Your Honour. The accused has no ties to the community, lives abroad and is a flight risk. Given the serious nature of the offence…."

"Hmm. Mr Jones?"

"My client is a young girl who has been framed, Your Honour. She has no criminal record and is prepared to surrender her pathport. Sorry, her passport. We ask that she be released on her own recognisance."

"Your Honour!" The DA was on his feet, protesting.

Buffy Summers looked up at him, huge hazel eyes swimming with tears and Judge Palmer decided it was time to be generous for once. After all, it was a sunny day and she was probably innocent. "Bail is set at two hundred dollars."

_"Your Honour!"_

But the judge had already looked away, missing the smile of satisfaction from the pretty redhead at the back of the courtroom, who had been muttering under her breath through the whole hearing.

* * *

"Buffy!" Willow ran over to her and hugged her friend tightly. "I'm so glad you're all right!"

"Yeah," Buffy said absently, hugging back strongly. "Thanks for coming."

Willow looked at her strangely. "Of course we came. Oh, hey Clarence!" She waved at the demon lawyer, who smiled and waved while talking to Lieutenant Caine and Calleigh.

Buffy's smile died away as Giles came up and hugged her gently. "Sorry about this, Giles."

"Not a problem, my dear. How are you coping with this?"

"Peachy," she lied, faking a smile. "So, demon lawyer, huh?"

"Clarence comes with excellent recommendations. And he did far better than expected at your hearing. I can't believe that bail was set so low." Giles shook his head and then sighed as Willow blushed. "What did you do?"

"Nothing! Well, maybe I just did a little spell. Just something to make the judge feel sympathetic and sorry for Buffy. Um. That was all right, wasn't it?"

"Thanks, Wills."

"Yes, well, I can't say as I blame you. Ah, Clarence, what do the police have to say?"

"Caine theems to think that Buffy is innocent, but doesn't know how to prove it. He also thaid that the Bomb Squad are thtill trying to get into your suitcase, and that you now owe them two X-Ray machines." Clarence's lisp seemed go get worse when he was excited.

"What?"

"Apparently your suitcase made their machines exthplode. Twice. For some reason, CSI Duquesne seems to think that's funny."

"That would be the anti-thief charm I used," Willow said sheepishly.

"They also have agreed that I, and my assistant whoever that will be, can go into the lab and have a look at the evidence in preparation for the trial. It's thtandard prothedure, but it's still good of them to offer."

"Willow? I believe the post of assistant is yours," Giles said, smiling at the excited grin that lit Willow's face.

"Thweet! Uh, sorry, Clarence. I meant, sweet!"

Clarence smiled. "It's OK. Buffy, I need you to stay at the hotel, with Mr Giles and stay out of trouble. Which means, I'm afraid, no thlaying. Slaying. The police are likely to be keeping an eye on you, so you need to make sure that you're always somewhere you should be."

"OK," Buffy agreed listlessly. "Giles, you'll need to talk to Alejandra and her Watcher, tell them I'm out of action for a bit."

"Of course. Buffy, don't worry about anything. We will straighten this out, don't worry."

"Yeah. I guess." She sighed and looked away. "Can I go back to the hotel and have a shower now?"

"Oh, of course. Come on," Giles said in a falsely cheerful tone. Buffy's total lack of enthusiasm or fight worried him. It was as though she thought she was guilty. Which, he hoped, couldn't be the case.

* * *

Calleigh had been pleased that Buffy was granted bail - the girl was definitely too vulnerable for jail time - but had been perplexed at the low bail. It was just another oddity in this case. The powder on the glass circle had turned out to be talcum powder laced with what appeared to be crushed butterfly wings, but that hadn't stopped Natalia and Horatio obsessing over it. Now Eric and Ryan had been drawn in, and they spent hours mulling over what it could be and why it was important.

Given that Horatio had started researching the use of butterfly wings in various industries, while Ryan was hunting down every glass maker in Miami that could have made the circle, she thought they might be taking it a little too far.

Calleigh was taking a more direct approach. With Frank for company, she was in a _bodega_ in Little Havana, talking to Maria Lopez Ortega, shop-owner and Santeria practitioner. Maria's dark eyes had lit up when Calleigh had walked in - she always loved a dumb _gringo_ that she could sell rubbish to at highly inflated prices, but her smile had died away at the sight of matching police badges.

"Why do you want to know about butterfly wings?" she asked suspiciously.

"It's an ongoing investigation," Calleigh hedged and ignored Frank's muttered complaints. "Why would you use them for?"

"Many things. They are a useful component in spells."

"Spells? Do I really look that stupid?" Tripp rolled his eyes and leaned against the counter. "Calleigh, are you serious?"

"As a heart attack. What sort of spells?"

"Well, the most common ones would be some sort of love spell."

Love spell? Well, that didn't really help, she thought glumly. Still, at least she'd tried. Enough with the nonsense; it was time to try to find a realistic explanation for everything. When she got back to CSI, she found Horatio concentrating on his computer, several empty coffee cups by his side, showing the length of time he'd sat there. "Hey, Horatio. You get anything new?"

He looked up, blue eyes bright with confusion, and said, "Calleigh, do you believe in magic?"

* * *

Willow had spent the rest of the day on the computer and had come up with a lot of interesting information that nobody else seemed to care about. She longed to tell them all about the CSIs' backgrounds and about their more interesting cases - Horatio Caine had apparently driven into a building that was about to explode, rescued the man inside and driven out as the building imploded behind him - but Giles had asked if she knew anything pertinent, and Buffy had just shrugged and gone back to flicking through the TV channels.

The Slayer seemed very lethargic since making bail and had only spoken when asked a direct question. Willow was getting more and more worried, and was planning detailed revenge against any of the police who might have mistreated her. However, that relied on Giles being somewhere that wasn't in the hotel room, otherwise he would only disapprove.

Still, Buffy looked as though she could use some quality Watcher-time, so Willow made her excuses and, with a significant look at Giles, left them to it. Giles smiled at her perception but his smile died when he turned back to Buffy, silent and exhausted.

"Are you all right, Buffy?"

"Both peachy and keen." But she sighed heavily and didn't meet his eyes.

"We will clear this up, Buffy. I have no doubts about that."

She looked up at him then, and he took a sharp breath at the total anguish in her eyes. "Will we? How do we know I didn't do it? Giles, I can't remember a thing!"

"We know, because you are Buffy, and you wouldn't do that."

His tone rang with sincerity, his utter belief in her and she shook her head. "Giles, all I know is that I was going to go shopping and I wake up an hour later in an apartment I don't recognise, standing over two dead men and holding the murder weapon. It sure as hell looks like I did it, doesn't it?"

"Even if you did, I know you will have had a good reason," he assured her.

It was clearly the wrong thing to say as she started to cry quietly. "See? See, Giles? You've already moved from 'you didn't do it' to 'you had a good reason'. How long will it be until you think that maybe I didn't have a reason, maybe I'm just going crazy?"

"You're not going crazy," he told her, moving to sit next to her, wrapping an arm around her and letting her cry on his shoulder. "We will sort this out, Buffy."

"I don't want to be Faith, Giles! Bad things happen to Slayers that kill humans!"

"They won't happen to you," Giles said, beginning to understand the true problem his Slayer was facing. The fear of not knowing what had happened was gnawing away at her. The doubt. Add in the memories of what had happened with Faith, and it was no wonder she was so worried.

"I don't know what to do, Giles," she said, snuffling back tears. "This is just… This isn't something I can fix on my own, this isn't something the Slayer can deal with by hitting someone harder, or moving faster, or… I don't want to go to prison!"

"You won't."

"But what if I did it?" she wailed, desperate. "What if I did it and I can't remember? Why would I do that? Just why would I do that?"

"Hush," Giles said, stroking her hair. "I will not let anything bad happen to you." He continued to stroke her hair gently as she tried not to cry, and privately swore vengeance on whoever had created this mess for his Slayer. For the girl he thought of as his daughter.


	6. Chapter 6

"You want me to believe in magic, Horatio?" Calleigh looked at him dubiously.

"It's the only logical explanation," Horatio said, with deadly seriousness. "Just listen to me for a moment, before you call IAB and tell them I've finally lost my mind. We all reacted the same way to the glass circle, right?"

"Right."

"And we all decided it was the most important piece of evidence, the only one we should really be focussing on, right? Trace came back with talcum powder and butterfly wings, so I started to look into the uses of butterfly wings. There's not much scientifically that would ever call for that, but one internet search did throw up the fact that they're used in magic spells."

"Love spells. I know. I checked with a Santeria shop in Little Havana."

"Precisely."

Calleigh stared at him, wondering if she perhaps should call Stetler at IAB after all. Horatio was her hero, and one of the smartest men she'd ever met, but this was getting ridiculous. "You think we're in love with a piece of glass?"

"Bear with me, Cal. I have an experiment in mind." He took the evidence bag contained the glass and led her through the lab until they reached the morgue. Even as they walked, Calleigh had to fight the urge to run more tests on the glass. There must be something she could find out from it… Shaking her head, she turned back to Horatio who was smiling. "You can feel it, can you?"

"Don't know what you mean," she bluffed, but he only gave her that lop-sided grin that usually meant he knew she was lying.

"Just watch. Alexx? Are you busy?"

The ME removed the face shield she had been wearing and turned off the electric drill that was cutting into her latest patient's skull. "Horatio? What do you need, sugar?"

"I need you to take a look at this." He handed over the glass disc and waited.

Alexx peered at the circle and frowned. "This really isn't my area of expertise, Horatio." Calleigh smirked at Horatio who just arched an eyebrow and waited. "Still, it does look as though it might be important. Hmm, maybe if I used UV light to…" She stopped, outraged, as Horatio snatched the bag back from her.

"Thanks, Alexx. I think you just proved my point."

"What point? Horatio, what game are you playing this time?"

"Nothing, Alexx, nothing to worry about. We'll let you get back to your latest customer." He steered Calleigh out of the morgue and smiled. "Even Alexx automatically assumed it's important, and that she should concentrate all her efforts on it. Can you give me any other reason we all have the exact same thoughts about one piece of evidence?"

"I can think up a hundred reasons that aren't magic!"

"Go on then."

It was his calm manner, she decided later, that infuriated her most. The way he just assumed he was right, that she couldn't think up a single other explanation. And, of course, he was right. Everything she came up was totally impossible. She refused to admit that magic was the answer, though. Just because she had had a moment's weakness earlier didn't mean that she was ready to leap on the crazy wagon.

When Horatio told the rest of the team, Calleigh was relieved to see Ryan and Natalia react the same way as her: outright disbelief and laughter. Eric was far more receptive. "But why would anyone want to use magic to make us focus on a piece of glass?"

"It's not magic, Delko!" Ryan said, with an irritated roll of his eyes.

Horatio ignored Ryan and answered Eric's question. "We've all been focussing on this piece of glass so much we're overlooking the other evidence. Has anyone run the DNA Alexx found under Matthias' fingernails? Have we chased down the AV lab about the 911 call? Has anyone processed Buffy Summers' clothes properly? Has anyone analysed the flowers found in her room?"

The team exchanged sheepish, guilty looks. "Well, it's just that the glass is probably the most critical thing we've found," Natalia began to say before she stopped. "OK. That is weird."

"I don't know the explanation for what is going on," Horatio admitted, "but we're being manipulated somehow. I don't like that, people. Now, we're going to meet up again in four hours, and I want a DNA profile on the skin under Matthias' nails, an update from Cooper in AV, tests run on those flowers, and I want a full report on the clothes Summers was wearing. OK? Let's go to work."

* * *

Since Giles had surrounded himself with legal books, and what looked like several sheets of parchment, and was muttering about legal precedent from 1558, Willow had been left to her own devices and was bored. Luckily, her searches on the victims had just finished running, so at least she had some reading to do.

"A-ha!" Willow announced loudly ten minutes later, only to be ignored by the others. "Uh, guys? I said a-ha! Can I get a little attention please? Maybe an 'oh dear lord' from you, Giles?"

"I tend to save the 'oh dear lord's for something important these days," Giles said with a smile.

"Well, this is important. Stephen Matthias dabbled in black magic. More than dabbled. He was involved in a group that met every week at a community college in Coral Gables."

"So?"

"So, they have a web page. And a group photo." She spun the laptop around to show them the web page. "Recognise anyone?"

Giles stared at the photo and then, without a trace of sarcasm, said, "Oh dear lord."

* * *

Horatio had also been running background checks on the victims and the black magic aspect of Stephen Matthias' life had also caught his eye. Given his team's odd reactions to a piece of glass, he felt it was an avenue worth exploring. After all, he thought with a grin, if he had been told once, he had been told a thousand times, _'there are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy'_.

Hamlet aside, he took Tripp with him to speak to a few of Matthias' friends from work. He had been a chartered accountant, and none of them knew anything about his interest in the supernatural. Matthias had been closed off and coldly impersonal at work; only two others in the office knew he was gay, much less than he had a serious partner who lived with him.

Rick Dunning, on the other hand, worked in the same building, for a different company and was very popular within the catering company he worked for as an event planner. Described as cheerful, hardworking and friendly, he seemed the complete opposite to Stephen Matthias.

"They complemented each other," Julie Christen, one of Dunning's colleagues said with a shrug. "Rick made Steve smile more, while Steve made sure Rick actually had some downtime. Rick would have burned out within another two months if he hadn't met Steve - he was always on the go, always working or partying. I can't believe they're both gone."

"Were you aware that Stephen Matthias was involved in a group that claims to practice magic?" Horatio asked, aware of Tripp's disbelieving look.

"Magic? Steve? Oh yeah, Rick said something about it once. We all laughed, Rick was doing his impression of wizards, with a lot of Harry Potter references." She bit her lip. "It's a bit weird, actually. That's the only time Rick mentioned it. Whenever anyone brought it up later, he'd just change the subject."

"So you never met any of the group?"

"No. What is this about? Do you think it was some sort of, I don't know, ritual or something?"

"Hell no," Tripp assured her. "We're just checking into everything, even the local nutjobs."

As they drove away, to head towards the community college that hosted the magic group, Horatio warned the taller detective against being too harsh with the rest of the group. "You may not believe this, but they do, Frank. And we're going to need their cooperation with this."

"You don't honestly believe this bunkum, do you, Horatio?" Tripp looked bewildered. "I know there're a few rumours going round the lab about some sort of enchantment that's got you all in a spin about some glass, or something, but it ain't actually magic. You do know that, right?"

Horatio thought carefully before he answered. While he might be open to new ideas about the sudden obsession with a piece of glass, the Texan would never believe in anything he couldn't see with his own two eyes. "I think that Buffy Summers is innocent and someone somewhere is very keen to keep us from discovering that."

"Buffy Summers innocent? Horatio, you were the one that wanted her friend Faith whatshername looked at. You remember, the one sent to prison for murder."

"The one who escaped and then handed herself back in to complete her sentence, when the police had no idea where she was. The one with a full, unconditional pardon from the Californian Governor," Horatio reminded him.

"H, all I'm saying is friends like that don't make Buffy Summers seem too innocent. Not when she's found holding the murder weapon."

"I know it looks bad, Frank, but I truly don't believe that girl is capable of murder."

Frank hid his disbelief reasonably well, Horatio thought with a grin. At least he left it alone until they had spoken to the bookings clerk at the college and got the list of names for those that attended the magic group. The first name on the list didn't live too far from the college, so they went there first.

At the modest house in the suburbs, Horatio was surprised to see Rupert Giles, Buffy Summers and the redheaded girl that had been at the courthouse for Buffy's bail hearing. He was even more surprised by the grim looks on each of their faces, and the businesslike way Buffy and Giles checked out the house, as though well practiced at surveillance.

"Come on, Frank. Let's go see why they're here."

"Lieutenant," Giles said formally as they walked up. "Are you here for a reason?"

"The murders of Rick Dunning and Stephen Matthias," Tripp drawled. "Remember that?"

"Yes, but why are you here?"

"We could ask you the same thing," Horatio said dryly. "Why do you want to speak to Amy Madison?"


	7. Chapter 7

It was strange, Horatio thought, how both Giles and the redhead hesitated before answering his question and looked automatically to Buffy for leadership. Given that he had previously assessed the girl as smart but relatively naïve in dealing with the world, it was odd that the others clearly regarded her as the leader. For her part, there was a good deal more intelligence and confidence on display in Buffy's eyes as she considered her answer. This Buffy looked far more competent than the scared little girl he had interviewed the day before.

"She's an old friend," Buffy answered eventually. "We used to go to High School together."

"Who's your friend?" Horatio smiled politely at the redhead, who looked the most nervous of the group in front of him.

"Willow. I'm Willow. Willow Rosenberg." The girl sounded nervous as well, the slightest hint of a stammer still present in her voice. "Amy was a friend."

"Was?"

"We haven't seen her in years," Buffy corrected, shooting Willow a glare.

"So why now?"

"Well, Buffy has to do something to distract her from the flagrant lies you people are concocting," Giles said, and Horatio thought his accent had become just a little more precise and clipped than the day before. He sounded more like an affronted member of the aristocracy than a - Horatio frowned as he realised no one had ever mentioned what Rupert Giles and Buffy Summers actually did.

"We're not concocting anything," Horatio said calmly. "Anyone home, Frank?"

Tripp had been pacing around the house, checking windows and doors while Horatio kept the others occupied. "No one's home, H."

To his great surprise, Buffy shook her head. "Wills? You think she's there?"

Willow closed her eyes and appeared to concentrate for a few seconds before she said, "Nope. Just us here, Buff. Amy's not about. She's not within a mile of the place."

_What?_Horatio tried not to show his confusion, but Tripp had no such delicacy. "What in hell are you people talking about? I swear, if someone else mentions butterfly wings and magic spells, I'm gonna go crazy."

"Who said anything about magic spells?" Buffy asked and Horatio had to marvel at the change in attitude. This Buffy wasn't scared or nervous. This Buffy was in control and, unless he was much mistaken, severely pissed off at something. Another surprise was the feeling, the instinct that he had learned to trust after nearly thirty years as a cop, that this was someone he did not want angry with him. This Buffy was dangerous, and he began to doubt his previous conviction that she was innocent.

"Just a joke going around the lab," he said with a smile. "Amy Madison knew one of the murder victims, Stephen Matthias. Are you sure you don't recognise the name?"

"Positive." Buffy looked back at Giles and Willow. "So, we go hunting for her somewhere else?"

"Mmm. I think that would be best. It's too much of a coincidence," Giles agreed.

"I spy a research party coming," Willow smiled and Horatio wondered what the hell they were talking about.

"Donuts?"

"We're in Miami. Maybe we should try some of the local cuisine?" Giles mused. "Still, back to the hotel." He shepherded the two girls back to the rental car, leaving Horatio and Tripp to watch in bemusement.

"So much for being in control," Horatio murmured, hiding a smile. "Come on. Let's see whether we have any DNA results yet."

* * *

Ryan Wolfe was beginning to become a believer. He wasn't quite sure what he was believing in, but this case was getting weird. Buffy Summers was clearly guilty - she'd been holding the murder weapon over the bodies - but DNA said otherwise. Well, the DNA that had been under Stephen Matthias' nails said it was a woman, but not Buffy Summers. A woman who wasn't in the CODIS system, or any other database that he had tried. He hadn't even thought about the DNA until Horatio had reminded him. Hadn't remembered there was any unprocessed evidence, as all he had been thinking about was that glass disc. Even now, he wanted to go and look at it, so see if there was anything else it could tell him.

Which was ridiculous.

So he focussed on the DNA in front of him, trying to drown out the voice in the back of his mind that said it wasn't important, that he needed to go look at the glass again.

When Horatio walked in, Ryan leapt to his feet in relief. If he talked to someone else, maybe he could distract himself. "H, it doesn't match!"

"What doesn't match, Mr Wolfe?"

"The DNA. It's not Buffy's," Ryan explained, handing over the results.

Horatio frowned in thought. "This doesn't clear Miss Summers entirely. All it means is that another woman had a fight with Matthias before he died."

"But it could be reasonable doubt," Ryan pointed out. "Any good lawyer could make this into a case breaking piece of evidence."

"Which is something we should have discovered hours ago. Something we would have discovered if everyone hadn't got caught up with that damned piece of glass." Horatio shook his head. "Mr Wolfe, let's see what we can find out about Amy Madison. She used to go to school with Buffy Summers, and knows one of our vics."

"On it, H."

* * *

Buffy stretched luxuriously after her long, hot shower. The news that Amy Madison was involved had perked her up considerably. It meant that she probably had been set up, that she really was innocent. She wouldn't truly relax until she knew for certain that she hadn't killed those men, but it was looking far more promising that she had been set up. That she could deal with. It was the thought that she might have misused her strength and power that had been plaguing her.

She in fact felt so much better about everything that she had decided to go out patrolling. After all, she had come to Miami for a reason. There was a large nest of vampires out there, and innocent people were going to die if she didn't do her job.

"Buffy, I truly don't think this is a good idea," Giles said again. They had been debating this on and off since returning to the hotel, but neither had been prepared to budge in their opinions.

"Look, I'm the Slayer. I Slay. It's what I do," she said with a grin. "Vamps are out there and I should stop them."

Willow, who had been watching the back and forth debate for some time, decided it was time to intervene. "Buffy, why don't you do something else? Giles is right, you shouldn't really go out against that many vamps without backup and we've already told Alejandra that we're not dealing with the vamps until this is sorted. You know her mom doesn't let her out on short notice." Alejandra's mother was one of the new generation of parents: much like Joyce Summers, she liked to wait up for her daughter and to know a basic patrol route before she left.

"So what am I meant to do?" Buffy bounced on the balls of her feet. "I got tons of energy to use up here!"

"Well, you could head over to Amy's house and see if there's anything there that might tell us where she is or what's going on." Willow shrugged. "I know we don't know that Amy knows if we're in town, if that makes sense, and I know we don't know if she really is involved, but it's way too much of a coincidence that she's here when Buffy loses an hour of memory and two guys that Amy knows just happen to end up dead."

"Not a bad idea, Wills," Buffy smiled. "Except the cops are kinda likely to be following me."

"I expect that you could out-run them, if you're feeling that energised," Giles suggested.

"So what do I look for at Amy's?"

"Anything that could show that she's involved."

"Gee, Giles, even I guessed that! What sort of thing do you mean?"

Even as she teased him, Giles rejoiced at the change in Buffy's mood. Amy's presence in town was, as Willow had said, too much of a coincidence. There had to be some connection to Buffy's arrest and that had given her hope that she was not the murderer. "Well, Lieutenant Caine's rather abrasive colleague mentioned butterfly wings, which would suggest she's using the _Amorata Indelium_ as a guide…"

"Amino Delicious, got it."

Giles hesitated. "On the other hand, perhaps Willow should go with you."

* * *

Horatio had been working late, as usual, in his office when he got the call. "Caine here."

"Uh, Lieutenant? This is Officer Brady."

"What can I do for you, Officer?"

"Uh, you're not going to believe this, but I was outside the Coral Beach Spa Hotel, like you asked, keeping watch on Buffy Summers, when her and her friend came out to get to their rental car."

"Go on." Horatio wasn't paying a lot of attention to what sounded like a routine update, still scrolling through emails on his computer.

"Well, someone had blocked them in, bad parking rather than deliberate. Summers pushed the car out of the way."

"So?"

"So, sir," Brady took a deep breath and Horatio realised his tone was that used by a junior officer when their superior was being particularly thick but the junior was too junior to say anything directly. He began to pay a little more attention. "I mean she moved the car. On her own. She looked around, to see if anyone was watching, didn't spot me, and pushed the car out of the way. It was a Ford Explorer, sir. That thing had to weigh a ton. And she pushed it like it was made of cardboard."

"She did _what_?"

"She pushed the SUV out of the way."

"Buffy Summers _pushed_ a one ton SUV out of the way?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where are they now?"

"I tailed them to 187 Hyacinthia Row, in the Gables." Amy Madison's house. What were they doing back there?

"I'm on my way."


	8. Chapter 8

Amy's house was still empty when Buffy and Willow got there, dark, silent and just a little foreboding. Buffy swung herself easily up on to the window ledge on the upper floor and eased open the window.

"Wait there," she called down to Willow as she disappeared inside, reappearing at the front door in a matter of moments. "Come on in," she grinned, opening the door. "Now, let's see what dear old Amy has been hiding."

"Dear old Amy? You're spending too much time with Giles," Willow teased and Buffy laughed.

"I know. The other day, I had an argument with one of the secretaries over whether it was milk in first, or last." Willow just stared at her, and Buffy laughed again. "It's all down to tea-making etiquette, apparently. So, where would Amy keep her witchy goodies?" They searched the house methodically, room to room, without success until they reached the last, and smallest of the three bedrooms. They exchanged hopeful glances and opened the door. Nothing. "Great. So much for that theory," Buffy sighed.

"Hang on a moment," Willow said, her eyes half-closed. "There's something here, something hidden. She used a spell to hide something." She moved slowly around the room, hands extended in front of her. Her eyes snapped open when she was in front of a small wooden bureau. She knelt down and opened the door, to reveal empty, dusty drawers. "It's here. There's an illusion here."

She waved her hands over the dusty shelves and muttered under her breath. An image of another drawer flickered under her hands, before it stabilised and appeared solid. "Secret drawer," Willow said with satisfaction. "Let's just hope she forgot about this one." Two scrapbooks were all that remained and Willow passed one over to Buffy, while leafing through the other herself.

"Yikes. She really didn't like you, did she?" Buffy asked, holding out a page that had an old photo of Willow on. The Willow in the photo was the Willow Buffy remembered meeting on her first day at Sunnydale High - nervous, long red hair hanging straight and unstyled down her back, clothes that wouldn't have looked out of place on an eight year old. Completely different to the stylish, confident woman that was her friend now. Sure, Willow still got nervous occasionally but she had come a long way from the teenager she had once been.

The photo of Willow that Buffy was looking at had been defaced - black pen had scrawled over her eyes, shown a bloody knife plunging towards Willow's heart and fires burning underneath her feet. Willow paled slightly at the imagery. "Amy …. Amy was jealous."

"Because you're Super-Witch and she isn't?"

"Because you forgave me for what happened." Willow took a shaky breath. "Because you forgave me for Warren."

Buffy put her arm around her friend's shoulders. "And if I did kill those two men? If it turns out I really did do it? Would you forgive me?"

"Of course!"

"Because that's what friends do," Buffy said with a smile. "You apologised, we forgave, we partied. End of story. We all screw up. I didn't tell you for ages that Angel was back from Hell. Miss Calendar never told us about being from the Kaldarash clan until it was too late. Anya was, well, Anya. Dawnie was stupid so many times I can't remember one standout moment. You did something wrong, but there were reasons. We're all over it." A little simplified, Buffy knew, but this wasn't really the place for a deep discussion on their friendship.

"Well, Amy doesn't see it like that."

"Amy needs to grow up."

"Maybe."

"Definitely. So, did you find anything?"

"Some. There's a few notes here that suggest she was looking into compulsion spells, love potions and there's something here about memory spells too. It does look likely that she did something, but without a little more information, and a lot more research, I won't be able to work out exactly what it is."

Buffy nodded, frowning slightly, before she froze. "Shh! Did you hear that? It sounded like someone was just outside the door." She moved silently towards the door and motioned for Willow to stay back. Wrenching open the door, she found herself staring at Horatio Caine, standing there looking relaxed, hands on his hips and a small smile on his face.

"Good evening, ladies."

"Oh crap," Willow muttered.

Horatio walked past Buffy into the room and looked over Willow's shoulder at the photo. "Old friend from school? She doesn't seem very happy with you."

"We were friends. Once. Thought it was about time we patched things up," Buffy said, smiling at him. "Or is catching up with old friends illegal too now?"

"Not at all. Breaking and entering, though, is on the statute books in most states, I think you'll find."

"Crap," Willow squeaked again, shooting a worried look at Buffy, who suddenly seemed a little more uncertain.

Horatio held out his hand to help Willow to her feet, but moved his grip to hold her arm above the elbow. "I'm sorry about this, ladies, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to arrest you both."

Buffy put her hand on his wrist, on the arm holding Willow, all three of them connected for a moment, before she tightened her grip very gently. Horatio went white as he felt her hand close down on his wrist, the pressure just shy of truly painful, but it was clear that she could tighten her hold further.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," she told him, and to his amazement she sounded sincere. "But I really don't think we have time for this. Let her go, or I'll have to hurt you." She squeezed a little harder, just hard enough to make him grunt in pain, just enough to show it wasn't an idle threat.

"Ah. Well, ladies, I'm afraid I didn't come alone." Buffy turned to see three uniformed officers, all pointing guns at her and Willow.

"Like you said, Wills: crap."

* * *

Clarence met Giles outside the Crime Lab and sighed at he saw the set face and stiff shoulders that showed the Englishman was truly annoyed. And he had thought that defending the Slayer would be a prestigious job. Oh, not one that he could use in normal adverts, but one that would hold great kudos among a small selection of his clientele. Not just any Slayer, but Buffy Summers, the last Chosen _One_. So far, it was not quite as he expected.

"So Buffy and Willow got arrested for breaking into thomewhere?"

"Yes." Giles shook his head. "I told them to be careful."

"Lieutenant Caine has an excellent reputation, or a terrible one, depending on which side of the law you're on," Clarence explained. "He's very thorough."

"So it appears. Well, let's go see if we can get the girls out of this one."

Buffy and Willow were in separate interview rooms, and Giles found Buffy alone with Lieutenant Caine, who seemed more amused and intrigued than an arresting officer usually was, in Giles' somewhat limited experience.

"Ah, Mr Giles, I wondered when you would arrive." Horatio smiled politely. "Perhaps you can get Miss Summers to explain why she had broken into what she claims is an old friend's house, and then assaulted a police officer."

"You did what?" Giles exclaimed. Buffy just blushed, so Horatio rolled up one shirt sleeve to reveal a narrow circle of bruises around his wrist.

"Luckily I am in the mood to be lenient. Besides, I am far more interested in hearing an explanation than another charge on Miss Summers' record."

"Ah." Giles sat down next to Buffy, who looked sheepish. "Well, thank you for that."

Clarence stepped forward. "Lieutenant, my client saw an open window in the empty house of an old friend and was concerned. She entered the property with the intention of securing it, as did Miss Rosenberg." Giles arched an impressed eyebrow and Buffy nodded and grinned.

Horatio also smiled, but it was a predatory smile. "And you know all this without even speaking to either of the young ladies involved?"

Buffy's smile died away, but Clarence merely nodded. "That's correct. They called Mr Giles before they entered the property."

"And phone records will corroborate that?" Horatio waited for Clarence to look worried before he added, "I know you're lying. What I want to know is why Miss Summers and Miss Rosenberg are so interested in Amy Madison. Given a good enough reason, I could be persuaded to drop the charges."

"May I thpeak with my client in private?"

Buffy had been staring hard at Caine and she shook her head. "It's OK, Clarence. Lieutenant, I know this sounds unbelievable, but I think Amy is behind the murders and has set me up. I don't know how, or even why, because she totally hates Willow way more than me, but that's what I think. We were looking for where she might be hiding so we could ask her."

"You believe Amy Madison is the killer?"

"Well, she knew one of them," Buffy defended.

Horatio nodded absently before pulling out his cell phone. "Mr Wolfe. Get a search warrant for Amy Madison's house and let's see if we can find some DNA to match the sample Alexx pulled from Matthias' fingernails."

"You believe me?" Buffy looked incredulous.

"I believe that there is evidence that needs explaining." Horatio waited for Buffy to look triumphantly at Giles and her lawyer before he said, "Such as how you were able to push the Ford Explorer out of the way at the hotel. Or how strong you are, far out of proportion to your build."

"Um…."

"Well…." Both Giles and Buffy looked at each other, at a loss to explain either statement, though Giles did wonder at the mention of pushing the SUV.

Clarence came smoothly to their rescue again. "Neither of which are crimes, Lieutenant, and so my client is free to exercise her right to remain silent. Are you planning on charging either Buffy or Willow?"

"No. But tell Miss Rosenberg to stay local. I am sure that I'm going to need to speak to both her and Miss Summers again."

* * *

"Now what, Giles?" Buffy sighed when they got back to their hotel. Clarence sat opposite her, as Giles had insisted they owed the lawyer a drink for helping out at such a late hour. "We're pretty certain that Amy's behind all of this, but without speaking to her, we can't prove anything. We don't even know why she did it."

"Well, the police are probably your best bet for finding her," Clarence suggested. "I have a friend on the force - let me ask him to run down any known athothciateth." He looked embarrassed. "Sorry - associates."

"A locator spell should show us where she's been lately," Willow offered. "It wouldn't take much magic."

"Wills, I want you to be careful," Buffy said gently. "You worked some mojo on the judge, and believe me, I'm not complaining! But Amy's using magic, so if we want me cleared, you're going to need to bind her magic. I don't want you overdoing it."

"I'll be fine."

"If you're sure," Giles said, somewhat dubiously. "I think Buffy's right. You need to be careful."

"I will be."

"OK, so Willow's on locator spells, Clarence can check with the police. What about me and Giles?"

"We get to research," Giles said with some satisfaction. "We don't know what spells she used, but thanks to tonight's little excursion, we have a lot more to go on. If we can work out what she used, then Willow will know how to counter it."

"Research?" Buffy said, hearing a whine enter her voice.

"Research," Giles confirmed firmly.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Just a quick note: please remember this is in Season 5, so Dan Cooper still works at the lab. It's not like he has a major role, but he is in this chapter.

Happy reading!

* * *

Horatio was at work early, despite his late night and had woken up feeling positive about the Summers case. It was a puzzling one, but Horatio had become a detective because he loved the puzzle. Forget the thrill of a car chase or the high after a shootout - the buzz of figuring out a complex case and catching the bad guys was far greater for Horatio. That had been why he had enjoyed his time on the Bomb Squad; simply put, he liked outwitting people.

Still, the Summers case was a perplexing one. Buffy Summers was, to the outsider, obviously guilty. And yet…. And yet, Horatio found it difficult to believe that she murdered two people in cold blood. He had done a lot of thinking about her attitude since arresting her at Amy Madison's house, and he had few doubts now that Buffy Summers could take care of herself. She was a lot harder and more self-reliant than he had first assumed. Yet despite that, despite the feeling that she was potentially dangerous, he still didn't believe she was a murderer.

He'd arrested a lot of beautiful women for murder - this was Miami, after all, where the glamorous came to party and one thing often led to another - so it wasn't her looks that were making him doubt the evidence. It wasn't her youth - he'd arrested much younger kids than her. Whatever it was, he just didn't believe she'd killed them.

Natalia was also in early, running tests in the DNA lab. "Morning, Horatio."

"Good morning. Do we have any news?"

"DNA under Matthias' fingernails is a match to the hair found at Amy Madison's house," she announced triumphantly. "We can't confirm it is Madison's, because we don't have a definite sample of hers to compare it to, but it looks likely. And Eric is in AV with Cooper. Said to tell you to stop by if I saw you."

"On my way." Horatio made his way around to the AV lab, where Eric and Dan Cooper were waiting. "Gentlemen, what do we have?"

"The 911 call," Cooper explained. "This is the original tape from Dispatch." He cued up the tape.

_"911, what's your emergency?"_

_"Please, you've got to help us!"_

_"Sir, what's wrong?"_

_"She's gone mad! Please, she's killing him!"_

_"What's your name and address, sir? Who's attacking you?"_

_"Rick Dunning, and we're at Apartment 4b, the Mandeville, out on Ocean. Please, hurry!"_

_"Units are on their way, sir. Who is attacking you?"_

_"It's…oh god, no!" _

The tape shut off abruptly and Horatio exchanged startled looks with Eric. "He called in his own murder?"

"Looks like, H."

"That's not all," Cooper said, grinning at knowing something the others didn't. "There was some background sounds, and you can just make out the sounds of an argument in the background, so I isolated the sounds and got this. It took a lot of work, I have to tell you."

_There was a crash that sounded like something smashing before a woman's voice could be heard, high and cold, "This is the end, Summers. Rosenberg will come and then I will finish this."_

_More smashing and a male voice cried out, "Stop it! What the hell are you doing? This is insane!"_

_"No, this has always been the plan…." The voice faded out of hearing as the man screamed in pain._

_A few phrases were all that could be heard over the man's agonised screams. _

_"…..meant to have been Rosenberg, but you'll do….."_

_"….time to end this…." _

Cooper looked suitably shaken. "That's all there is, H. It sounds like at that point she went after Dunning. Matthias died slowly, huh?"

"Hmm." Horatio wasn't particularly listening to the AV tech. Rosenberg - Willow Rosenberg? So the plan had actually been to set up Willow, but Amy had changed her mind and chosen Buffy instead? It didn't make any sense. But if Buffy was there, and it sounded like she was, why had she done nothing to intervene? He shook his head. Motive and further explanation could wait until they had Amy Madison in custody. "Eric, get out an urgent APB on Amy Madison. We've got to find this girl."

"I'm bored, Giles!" Buffy whined, using her best sulky-little-girl voice, the one she knew really annoyed Giles. True to form, her Watcher glared at her and huffed in that special way she recognised as 'fast losing his patience'. She'd been needling him for an hour now, and she judged he was about five minutes from sending her out on a donut run. Anything to avoid more research.

"Buffy, please, I am trying to concentrate."

"But this is boring! I've read through all these books and there's nothing here we didn't already know: Amy did some sort of memory spell on me, killed those two men and framed me for it. Can we find her already?"

"Yes, well, we're working on that. Buffy, I know this isn't your sort of thing, but if we can work out what spell she used, Willow might be able to reverse it and give you back your memory."

"Not sure I want it back," she muttered quietly.

"Guys? I think I've narrowed down the best locator spell to use," Willow announced. The first one she had tried had been to light up a map of Miami to show where magic users were. The resultant pinpricks of light had been bright enough to blind. It was only at that point that Giles had pointed out the number of voodoo and Santeria practitioners likely to be living in a city that had sections called Little Havana and Little Haiti.

"Really? Well done," Giles smiled at Willow fondly.

"Just a question of asking the right question," Willow shrugged, blushing a little. "If that doesn't sound too babbly, anyway. This time, I'm just trying to locate people who have lived on the Sunnydale Hellmouth. Given that there's us, and we know where we are, it shouldn't give us too many other options." She knelt down by the side of the city map they had spread out across the hotel room floor and took a deep breath. Tossing some silver flakes in the air above the map, she commanded, "Survivors of the Mouth of Hell, survivors of Sunnydale, reveal yourselves to me! _Declaro vestrum!_"

The silver flakes flared brightly for a second before settling on the map in three distinct places. One spot was their hotel, another was a cemetery out in Hialeah, while the third spot lit up a house on Star Island.

"Nice going, Willow," Buffy said, impressed despite herself.

"See? Witchy know-how and unlimited ability to eat donuts, all in one attractive package," Willow laughed. "So, is Amy in the cemetery or the fancy-pants house?"

"I vote the house," Buffy said decisively. "Mainly because the cops are bound to follow us again, and I think that might be easier to answer than why we're patrolling a cemetery."

"Not if you break into somewhere again," Giles noted dryly.

"Well, what was I meant to do? It's not like I knew they were following us! I totally thought my driving would have lost them."

"Or given them motion sickness, at any rate."

"It gave me motion sickness," Willow added with a grin.

"No fair! No picking on the framed Slayer!"

Star Island was one of the most exclusive neighbourhoods in Miami, each house a testament to the wealth and privilege of the owners. Large gates, tall hedges and strict security protected the driveways from prying eyes, the houses invariably hidden away yet further, to provide security and privacy for those that could afford it. The houses were usually easier to see from the water, often having their own dock for the speedboats and yachts that went with the property.

Buffy stood outside the gate of the property that had been highlighted by Willow's spell and shook her head. "OK. How did Amy get this place as her sneaky little getaway? Because whatever she did? I want to do it too."

The palatial, pale yellow house could just be seen through the hedge; a Greek revival mansion, in the style that had been very popular in the ante-bellum South, with a large porch and two pillars supporting the portico. The driveway swept up towards the house, over a wide lawn, liberally dotted with statues that looked, to Buffy's untrained eye, as though they might be marble, all in the Italian Renaissance style. Giles peered through the hedge and shook his head.

"Italian marble and Greek columns. Philistines. Bloody Philistines."

"Thanks for that, Giles the Art Critic. This is the right place, isn't it, Willow?"

"Oh yeah. Amy's inside," Willow confirmed, her eyes half-shut as she concentrated.

"Well, let's get to it. I want to ask her a few questions," Buffy said coldly, making her way to the wrought iron gate at the front of the property. "Subtle or what-the-hell-let's-go-loud?"

"Let's try for subtle, shall we? After all, it seems likely that our friends from the Crime Lab are nearby and we don't want them any closer to this than we can help."

"You're no fun," she pouted at Giles, before kicking the gates lightly several times. The strength of the metal judged, she narrowed her eyes and delivered a harder kick to the central lock that made the gates shudder on their hinges as they rocked from the pressure. "There." She pushed the gates open, the lock shattered, and bowed mockingly to Giles and Willow. "After you."

They had only made it three steps inside the boundary when Willow stopped and said, "Oh crap."

"Now what?"

"She had wards set and hidden, to alert her when anyone came in. I just felt them go off."

"So she knows we're coming and she'll be waiting. Oh fabulous. I do love it when they get a chance to prepare," Buffy sighed.

* * *

Horatio watched them with interest. Once again, Buffy Summers had proved she was far stronger than she looked. That kick to the gates had seemed easily done, but the gates had rocked as though they had been hit with a battering ram. He keyed the speaker on his radio.

"Eric? They're here. Let's give them a few minutes head-start before we catch up. I want to find out how and why Amy Madison is involved and I think she's more likely to tell Buffy Summers than me."

"You got it, H," Eric agreed. "Wolfe, you copy that?"

"I can hear, Delko."

"So can our visitors, gentlemen," Horatio pointed out. "Radio silence until I say so." He waited until Buffy and her friends were just out of sight before slipping through the gates after them. To his far left and right, he just caught the shadows of Eric and Ryan also moving into position and nodded. His team were good. He had no doubts they could handle this.


	10. Chapter 10

Amy watched their approach on the monitor, CCTV keeping track of the two separate groups as they made their way across her benefactor's extensive grounds. This wasn't the confrontation she had planned, wasn't how she had intended to end this, but it would do. She looked around at her companion and smiled to herself. She could still make this work. And the fact that the cops were already here made things much easier.

When Giles and that utter bitch Rosenberg were lying dead at her feet, and Caine would swear before any court in the land that Buffy Summers had done it, she would finally have her revenge. They should have welcomed her, should have recognised that _she_ was the true genius when it came to magic, that she would have made a better ally than Willow Rosenberg would ever make. But no, it was all Willow, Willow, Willow. Always _Willow_. Well, they'd learn their lesson.

All it would take would be a few simple memory spells and Caine and his friends would remember seeing Buffy kill her friends. And Buffy would remember nothing, just that she had lost three days of memories. The spell that she had laced the lilies with should still be in her system enough to make tampering with Buffy's memories a little easier.

It had been a complicated, combination potion – something to make her pliable and easy to command, something to dull her senses, as Amy hadn't wanted to trust that Buffy's Slayer sense of smell wouldn't react to the blood, and something to make her forget everything, and Amy had been free to do as she pleased. It was all so easy, really.

Let her think she really had done the murders and precious, sainted Buffy wouldn't even break out of prison. When Willow was dead and Buffy was in jail, Amy could take her place at the head of the Watchers, with all the power and prestige that implied.

After all, she deserved it. She knew she did.

* * *

Buffy was aware of Giles and Willow at her back, providing silent support, as they approached the pale yellow house, glowing warmly in the evening sunlight. She checked the knife she had hidden in the sleeve of her jacket one more time - whatever happened, Buffy had the feeling Amy wasn't about to come quietly, and while she desperately wanted to put this behind her, she was also quite prepared to defend her friends' lives to the limit. Slayers weren't meant to kill humans, but something had to be done about a witch using black magic to help her kill people.

Willow at her worst was far more dangerous than Amy Madison could ever hope to be, Buffy knew, but Willow had also been sorry for her actions and had done everything she could to make it up to them. Maybe Amy would too, given the chance, but Buffy didn't think Amy would be inclined to make amends.

With that in mind, she'd come prepared for a fight. Given that the police were bound to follow her, and still had her suitcase of weaponry, she'd been a little stuck for choice, which was why it was just the slim, delicate blade hidden in her jacket and a stake. The knife was made of blessed steel, though, and Willow guaranteed it could cut through all but the strongest enchantments.

A movement in the bushes caught her eye and she stopped, glancing around carefully. "You guys see that?"

"See what?"

"That," she said, nodding at the bush at the other end of the garden that was moving oddly. Then she stifled a laugh. "False alarm; that's one of the police trying to be stealthy."

"This is hardly the place for them to be," Giles disapproved. "Can you think of any way of getting them to go somewhere else?"

"Nothing legal," Buffy quipped. "We could call in a bomb threat, but I think Lieutenant Caine's sense of humour is kinda already stretched enough by me."

"I could _make_ them go," Willow said quietly. She looked worried at the thought of using dark, mind-controlling magic and Buffy shook her head.

"You're going to be on Amy take down duty. We need you all rested and ready to go for that. Just leave them. Maybe they'll all catch Sunnydale Syndrome and decide that anything weird was a trick of the light or something."

"Maybe," Giles said, sighing. "Unlikely though. They seem a lot more competent and sensible than the police in Sunnydale. As you say though, there's not a lot we can do."

Buffy thought she saw the bushes move again, at the other end, but put it down to the police having backup, and continued moving towards the house. It was only when she heard a yell of fear and surprise that she spun around, to see the bush move on its own, streaking after the surprised police officer, who was sprinting towards them.

"Oookay. Magic bush. That's new." Buffy moved to place herself between the bush, growing larger by the second, and her friends. "Guys? Any thoughts? Weedkiller maybe?"

The bush morphed as it moved, legs and arms appearing out of the foliage, thick and woody. The hands weren't fully formed, the arms ending in club-like appendages, but they looked deadly enough as the bush swung at the officer. The body of the creature was covered in leaves and Buffy watched, slightly bemused, as the bush sprouted a head, also covered in leaves.

"You got to admit: that's just weird."

"Eric!" Buffy spun around as she heard Lieutenant Caine yell. "Get out of the way!" He was standing with another cop, younger than him, and both had their guns out and drawn on the bush-creature, now topping six feet and still growing. Eric threw himself to one side as the cops opened fire, at least six bullets striking the bush, making it stagger backwards.

That was the only reaction though - the bush regained its balance and kept moving forward.

"Miss Summers! Get your friends out of here," Caine ordered her and she had to give him points for courage.

"'S'okay, Lieutenant," Buffy told him nonchalantly. "I'll take this one. Giles, you have any idea what that thing is?" She didn't wait for the answer, running towards the bush-creature, before launching a flying kick at the creature, sending it backwards under the force of her blow. She ducked under the arm-branch as it swung at her, coming up underneath and slamming another punch into the body of the creature. "Guys? Giles? Any ideas?"

She didn't wait for an answer, attacking the bush again, this time aiming at the more delicate looking joints of the thing's arms and legs. One blow from the creature slammed into her side and she hit the ground hard, winded. As the bush lined up another blow, she vaulted to her feet and swung a low, fast kick at where the thing's ankle would be. Taken by surprise, it staggered backwards, one leg collapsing and fell to the ground.

"Giles? Willow? Ideas would be good about now!"

Buffy leapt on to the bush's chest, and delivered a series of crunching blows to its head. The thing's expression never changed from the blank, emotionless one it had to begin with, the leaves that seemed to represent eyes never blinking. As she hit the creature, Buffy noticed that it didn't seem to be taking any damage, just riding her punches out and wondered what would kill it.

"Buffy! You're going to need some fire," Willow called out. "It's been animated by Amy, she's controlling it."

"Fire. I know I blew some stuff up, Wills, but that was back in the day! I'm no pyro anymore! Matches would be good!" Buffy kept up her punishing blows, hoping to keep the thing down long enough for someone to come up with a plan.

"Here," Giles called, and she looked around to see him standing a few metres away, holding out a branch with the remains of his jacket wrapped around it, blazing brightly in the sunshine. He tossed the makeshift torch to her and she caught it easily, swinging it around to stab into the bush's abdomen in the same movement as she leapt backwards.

The creature's back arched as the flames rushed along it, consuming it whole. Buffy watched for a long moment before she shuddered. "OK, that was creepy."

"Yeah, a giant, moving bush would qualify as creepy," said the tall Latino cop that Lieutenant Caine had called Eric, his voice sounding faint and far-away.

"Nah, I meant the way it never made a sound," Buffy said with a grin.

"Of course you did," Caine said dryly. "And now, Miss Summers, I think we need to have a serious talk."

"No, now we need to go deal with Amy, before she gets any more great ideas," she countered. "If you're coming, stick close to Giles. If not, get out of here now. I don't have time to babysit."

Giles smiled at the stunned policemen. "Really, gentlemen, I would advise that we hold off on any explanations until we have dealt with the apparently rather powerful dark witch in that house." He gestured for them to follow him as he set off across the lawn, catching up with Buffy and Willow. Caine nodded in thought and followed him.

_"Dark witch?"_

"Wolfe, that was just a really big bush thing that tried to kill me and you're quibbling about witches?"

"Delko, for the last time, just because you can't explain it, doesn't make it magic."

"Says the man who thought he was cursed by a zombie and screams like a little girl."

"Gentlemen! Now, please," Caine called back impatiently, making the younger cops scurry after them, somewhat sheepishly.

Buffy and Willow exchanged looks and sniggered. Willow couldn't resist. "You guys saw zombies?"

"And hey! Who says screaming like a girl is automatically a bad thing? I scream like a girl," Buffy pointed out.

"You are a girl," Delko grinned. "And so is Wolfe."

"Delko!"


	11. Chapter 11

Horatio still had his Sig out, holding it loosely in one hand, despite the utter lack of effect it had had on the bush-thing-monster. Whatever it had been, bullets hadn't stopped it, but the gun was reassuring, a safety blanket almost. Here, on Star Island, in Miami, where he had lived for years without once being truly scared for his own safety, he suddenly needed a safety blanket. It would be ridiculous on any other day. This day, he didn't mind admitting he was scared.

That bush-thing-monster, he couldn't think up a name for it, had shaken him. It was all very well in the safety of the lab to talk to Calleigh about magic and hypnosis, but to see the actual, real, physical weirdness, right there in front of him, in the warm sunlight of the Miami afternoon; it shook him.

But he had Eric and Ryan with him and they were worried and even more shaken than he was, so he made sure he didn't let a flicker of emotion into his voice. Sometimes he wondered if the persona he had created - the ever dependable, the ever pointlessly heroic Horatio Caine - was really worth the trouble it caused. Sure, it made the younger cops try that little bit harder to impress him, to go that extra mile and perhaps that behaviour would hold for the rest of their career. But sometimes, the pressure of being in charge, of not being able to admit to being scared and wanting to run for the car, calling for back-up and a nuclear strike, that pressure could get a little much.

But he was in charge, he had two young men with him who looked up to him, and at the end of it, there was a double murderer to arrest. So he squared his shoulders, smiled as though he was in on the private joke that Buffy Summers and her friends seemed to all know and kept his gun at the ready.

"Guns aren't going to be much use here, Lieutenant," Giles told him, a slight smile on his face. He looked smug and amused and Horatio irrationally hated the man for a moment for bringing his team into this, for letting them waltz into danger that they hadn't been trained to deal with. Not that it was Giles' fault, but it was good to have someone to blame.

"And what will be useful, Mr Giles?"

Giles looked awkward. "Well, that really depends on what Amy throws at us next. But I suggest that whatever it is, you let Buffy handle it."

"Buffy?" Ryan and Eric were just behind Horatio, Buffy and Willow out in front. "Look, H, Mr Giles, I really don't think those two girls should be out in front on their own. Did you see that bush-thing?"

"And did you see her kick hell out of it, Wolfe?" Eric shook his head. "That girl is scary."

Very true, Horatio acknowledged in the privacy of his own head. The more he saw of Buffy Summers, the more he realised that his first impressions of her had been totally wrong. That she was capable of murder, and of a great deal more. She was one of the most utterly capable people he had met, totally fearless in the face of that bush-thing-monster and her absolute trust in her companions to come up with the answer. They were a tightly knit unit, well-used to working together.

Two twenty-something, beautiful girls and a middle-aged Englishman. A very odd combination for a team.

They approached the south end of the house, arcing around from the main entrance, towards the back of the house. The lawn swooped down to a private beach and Buffy sighed. "OK, seriously. How has Amy managed to have this as her little escape pad while I'm stuck in that poky little flat in the really dodgy part of Hackney? And, I might add, Giles, you told me that Hackney was hip and happening and cool but it's really kinda scummy."

"When we finally get back those investments, Buffy, I will personally take you apartment hunting in the Docklands," Giles said patiently, and Horatio got the impression this was a conversation they had had before.

"Guys? Evil witch ahead? Remember?" Willow nudged Buffy gently, with a wide grin, confirming Horatio's impression of a regular conversation.

Buffy shrugged. "I'm just saying. Evil has its benefits, you know?" She shook her head, focussing on the house. "Main benefit being having somewhere that looks pretty hard to break into. What's our plan, Wills? You're our go-to girl for plans of the witchy-type. Just smash our way in, or will Amy be all waiting to fry us?"

"I think I can hold off any frying that she tries," Willow said firmly. Horatio looked at the redhead with new respect at the certainty in her tone. Having come across as deeply nervous and insecure, the firmness and self-belief was a surprise. Altogether, none of them were what they seemed and Horatio wondered what else he'd missed.

"Then let's go."

She strolled forward, utterly confident and fearless, moving with a loose-limbed grace that made Horatio think of a dancer with its effortlessness. Eric shot a concerned look at Horatio and said, "If there's an evil witch in the house, shouldn't we, I don't know, sneak up a bit?"

"No such thing as magic, Delko!" Ryan said, a little less firmly than before.

Any further argument was interrupted as Buffy wrenched open the back door and strode inside, Willow just behind her. Giles gestured to the police to keep up and hurried after the girls.

Inside, the house was as luxurious as the garden had suggested, with Italian marble floors and a large painting hanging over the elaborate fireplace. "Good grief," Giles commented. "Is that a Matisse?"

_"Ooh, is that a Matisse?"_A harsh voice behind them snarled, in a twisted imitation of Giles' British accent.

Horatio spun around to be confronted with another creature out of a nightmare. This one was a big, shambling thing, with three eyes, green-grey skin and long, vicious fangs that were dripping drool. Unable to help his reaction, Horatio stepped backwards, eyes wide and levelled his gun at the creature before he had really thought through his actions.

"I got this, Lieutenant," Buffy said, her voice going hard and cold. In her hand, she held a slim dagger.

"Stabbing the central eye should kill that, Buffy," Giles said calmly, as though this was natural and normal.

She moved forward, dagger at the ready and the thing laughed at her, unsheathing wicked claws on each hand. "Not in the mood for this," Buffy told it. "Amy's here and I'm really, really keen to have a little chat with her. You want to bail on this one, that's OK with me."

The thing just laughed again and swung an arm at her with such speed and force that Horatio winced in sympathy for Buffy. But the girl just caught the thing's arm and twisted it, making the thing howl in pain as she slammed a heavy punch into its ribcage. Moving with a speed that Horatio didn't think was entirely human, she spun, kicking the thing hard into the wall and leapt up, the dagger flashing in the sunlight as she drove it into the central eye with such force that he heard Ryan retch quietly.

Buffy yanked the blade free, wiped the glowing green ichor on to the thing's skin and turned back to face the others. "Right, I'm getting a little sick of this. Let's just find Amy and get this over and done with already. You know, before her little haunted fun house springs any more surprises."

"Right," Horatio murmured faintly, still staring at the bloodied corpse of the creature. Feeling slightly light-headed, he began wondering if that counted as murder. Yes, it was a sentient, talking being, but was something non-human actually covered by the laws? And since it had clearly attacked her first, did that count as self-defence? He realised he was drifting deliberately to avoid thinking about what he had just seen and gave himself a mental shake.

Eric had no such delicacy. "What the hell are you?" he demanded, staring at Buffy.

Buffy Summers was undeniably beautiful, but Horatio couldn't see her beauty as she turned to glare at Eric. All he saw was those hard, cold eyes and an aura of danger as she said, in a mockingly bright voice, "I'm Buffy. The Vampire Slayer. Problem, anyone?"

Eric stammered something that sounded like an apology and Horatio made a mental note of yet another question that needed an answer when this was finished. For the moment, he just signalled to Ryan and Eric to stay close as they headed to the stairs. In keeping with the opulence of the house, the staircase was a wide, sweeping affair, with another expensive painting at the top.

"Go on, Giles, we can all see you wanting to impress us with your arty knowledge," Willow grinned.

"It looks like an original Gaugin, but that's invaluable!" Giles shook his head. "Amy's benefactor is really very well off."

"Again, evil has its benefits," Buffy grumbled. "Stay close, guys. She's got to be around here somewhere."

Buffy took the steps two at a time in her hurry to get to Amy, outdistancing the others, so that when Willow noticed something was wrong, she was already several feet higher than them. "She's set a trap -" Willow managed to call out before the spell kicked in and the stairs turned to ice under their feet.

Willow slipped and cannoned into Giles, who lost his footing, the pair of them knocking down the three police officers, all landing in a heap at the foot of the stairs. Above them, Buffy too lost her footing and fell, her head cracking ominously against the marble floor.

Giles pushed himself woozily to his feet and shook his head. "Great. Booby traps in the manner of the Three Stooges. Just what I needed to maintain my dignity."

It was only then that he noticed Buffy lying next to Willow, holding her head, blood leaking between her fingers. "Well, this qualifies for an 'ow'," she commented, pushing herself gently into a sitting position.

"God, Buffy! Are you OK?" Willow rushed to her friend's side.

"Little smacked around, but I'll be fine," she assured them, before standing up and continuing, "Ooh, pretty sparkly lights."

"Concussion," Giles and Horatio concluded at the same time.


	12. Chapter 12

She definitely was feeling a little over-punched, Buffy thought. Her head throbbed and she was having trouble focussing on anything. Which could be a problem for the Slayage, since seeing double wasn't a good thing when it came down to aiming. So it was probably a good thing that the cops had come with them, she decided, leaning drunkenly on the shoulder of Ryan Wolfe. That way Willow and Giles could do the battling of evil and the cops could give her something to lean on.

Aware she wasn't making a great deal of sense, even in her own mind, Buffy settled for watching as Willow dismissed the trap that had caught them out. Willow looked tense, fine lines radiating out around her eyes as she took in Buffy's wound, but she smiled when she noticed Buffy's scrutiny.

"Are you sure you're all right, Buffy?" Giles asked her. Since she could currently see two Giles' peering worriedly at her, Buffy went with the one on the right and looked him in the eye and smiled brightly.

"I'm fine, Giles, honest."

"So why are you staring over there when I'm here?"

"Oh." She refocused on the Giles on the left and smiled sheepishly. "Maybe not so fine, but I'll cope. Just give me a minute."

"We might not have a minute," he murmured, shooting a glance at Willow, who was muttering darkly to herself.

The redhead held her arms out in front of her and snapped a single word, a beam of light sweeping the floor in front of her. The light went up the stairs and spread out across the landing, sliding up the walls and ceiling. Only when the beam winked out did Willow nod. "Right. No more booby traps for us."

It was Willow who led the group this time, striding forward, her face set and hard. Horatio noticed the worried look on Giles' face and wondered what he had missed, why Willow made Giles so nervous. But he followed the older man closely, leaving Eric and Ryan to support the still-woozy Buffy.

"That really is a Gaugin," Giles muttered as they walked past the painting. Seven doors led off the landing, but Willow led them unerringly to the furthest door, one that would overlook the ocean.

"This is my fight, Giles," she said firmly, before she pushed the door open.

Amy sat calmly in a leather armchair, legs cross and looking relaxed and comfortable. Behind her, a series of monitors showed various rooms and shots of the gardens, the walls were again decorated with expensive paintings, while Amy herself held a delicate gold necklace, wound around her fist. "Willow Rosenberg," she greeted them with a smile. Her voice was sickly sweet, but it turned bitter as she continued, "Of course you came. You would. You and Buffy and Rupert Giles. So damned perfect. You never _looked_ at me! Never! Never saw me for who I truly am!"

"I'm seeing now," Willow said softly. "I can see you, Amy."

"No, you still see the girl who lived as a rat for two years," Amy spat, raising her right fist, the golden chain glittering in the light. As she moved, the chain seemed to writhe by itself and Amy laughed. "Now," she ordered and a barrage of knives appeared, flying towards the group.

Eric yelled in surprise, all three cops moving to shield themselves, but Willow held up her right hand. She made no other movement, but the knives all ground to a halt, quivering as though they had struck an invisible wall. Willow waved dismissively and the knives clattered to the ground. She stepped forward and Amy narrowed her eyes.

"You're going to have to do better than that, Amy," she chided her, as though speaking to a naughty toddler. "You killed those men and set Buffy up, didn't you?"

"Steve and Rick were idiots," Amy countered, standing up as Willow walked slowly closer. "And it was meant to be you. I was going to get you to come to Miami and get you arrested. Buffy and her precious Scoobies wouldn't forgive you more murders, would they? But when Buffy came, it was too perfect. I knew she'd call you for help, I knew you'd come and now, you get to be her next victim."

"Wow, did someone forget to take her crazy pills, or what?" Buffy said. "I'm kinda expecting you to be all 'and you're little dog too!', because the reality train left here a while back, huh?"

"Shut up!" Amy howled, "You and your stupid jokes! You don't have to be ready with a stupid pun to be a good ally, but no, because I'm not as _funny_ as Willow and that idiot Xander, I get ignored, shunted to one side. I'm better than they are."

"Says the double murderer," Buffy pointed out. "And it wasn't so much the lack of quippage as the raging insanity that made us not like you so much."

"Bitch!" Amy gestured with one hand and the paintings on the wall started to move. The figures in the paintings stepped slowly, jerkily out of their frames and moved towards Buffy and her friends. Still moving as though they were in a bad stop-motion animation film, the three men drew paper thin blades and advanced, knives at the ready to attack.

Buffy stepped forward, her head still aching, but she slid into a fighting stance, ready to defend the others. Before she could attack first, Willow said, "No."

Buffy shot a look over her shoulder and went cold as she saw the roots of Willow's hair darken.

"No," Willow repeated and the animated paintings caught fire, burning in the frames and in the room. "No, Amy, this is not our fault. You killed those men. You, not me, not Buffy, not Xander. You. You killed them, in cold blood, for no other reason than to spite us. You killed them." As she spoke, black spread through her hair and Buffy exchanged frightened looks with Giles.

"Wills," she tried, but the witch ignored her.

"You hurt my friend. You hurt Buffy, sent her to jail, made her doubt herself. You made her think she was evil, that she was a killer. She's not. She couldn't be. She's not like us. She's not like you. _She's not like me._"

The golden chain around Amy's hand was glowing almost white now, as she threw all of her power against Willow. To Buffy, it looked as though nothing was happening, the two witches just standing and staring at each other, the only change being the ever increasing darkness of Willow's hair, the red strands bright against the encroaching black.

Buffy watched Horatio step forward, clearly intent on interrupting, but before she could stop him, he hit an unseen barrier that sent up sparks but didn't distract the witches from their staring match.

"So what now, Willow?" Amy said through gritted teeth, the sheen of sweat on her forehead testament to her concentration. "Do we just stand here forever, until one of us dies of old age?"

Willow's hair was almost completely black now, only a few hints of red left, as she laughed coldly, not sounding like Willow at all. "No, Amy, because you don't have that long. I'm not even trying that hard. You're at your limit, and I haven't even started."

A whip of red light uncoiled from Willow's hand and struck out at Amy, making her cry out as it slashed across her neck, leaving a bloody welt on her shoulder. The whip struck again, on Amy's other side and again, it cut her.

Buffy knew she had to act, or Willow would do something she would always regret. So she stepped forward, to the limit that Horatio had reached and said loudly, "Willow, this isn't you."

There was no reaction, but she tried again. "Willow, I know this isn't you. You know how I know this? Because Amy's not sorry. She doesn't care that she killed two men. You were sorry, you still beat yourself up about Warren -" She hesitated and shot a glance at the cops, but carried on. "You still beat yourself up about that, so you are nothing like her, Willow. Nothing like her at all."

Giles moved to stand next to Buffy, to put his arm around her waist to support her and added, "She's right, Willow. You are nothing like Amy. Don't prove her right now."

The whip faded out of sight, but Willow's eyes and hair remained dark.

"Wills, do we really have to get Xander on a conference call from Africa to talk to you? Maybe a video call, so he can do the Snoopy Dance?"

That got her attention and made her look away from Amy. Willow turned to face Buffy and Giles and they watched with pride as her eyes returned to normal. "Guys?"

"'Sokay, Wills, it really is," Buffy assured her.

"How sweet," Amy snarled, and threw a globe of light at Willow. Whatever it would have done, it never got a chance to hit her as Willow turned back to face Amy, and caught the globe in one hand.

"Buffy's right. I am sorry and you're not. But you're going to have a long time to think about it," she told Amy, the black bleeding entirely from her hair, being replaced by streaks of white amongst the red. "Maybe you'll be sorry too one day, Amy, but I don't want to risk that."

She brought her hands together, the globe vanishing in a flicker of light, and when she pulled her hands apart, a film of silver spread between them, covering each finger. "I'm sorry about this too, Amy." Willow's voice changed, getting louder as she called out, "Goddess Hecate, see your unworthy servant as she stands before me. See the way she has twisted your gift. Take it from her, Goddess Hecate, take your gift from her and never let it return." As she finished, she threw the silver film towards Amy, who screamed as it settled on her skin.

"NO!"

Buffy watched, torn between relief and horror, as the film sunk into Amy's skin, disappearing into her. The golden chain she had been clutching so tightly shattered and fell to the ground in pieces and Amy screamed again, wordlessly, a scream of rage and frustration. She launched herself at Willow, but Buffy moved faster than she could.

She held the raging, screaming girl easily, holding her arms back. Amy screamed again, before collapsing into a sobbing heap. Buffy let her fall gently to the ground, before looking over at Willow, impressed. "So what did you do?"

"I took her magic away," she replied quietly, sadly, as the white faded from her hair and left only red. "She'll never be able to do any spells again, nothing that requires any skill. I really am sorry, Amy."

"Bitch! Whore! I'll kill you!" Amy looked up, tears still streaming down her face, making her choke on her words as she struggled to breathe. "I'll kill you one day, Willow!"

"I wouldn't count on it," Horatio told her, stepping forward to take Buffy's place, holding Amy's arms. "Amy Madison, you are under arrest for the murders of Stephen Matthias and Richard Dunning….."


	13. Chapter 13

Buffy stood outside one of the interview rooms at CSI, watching through the two-way mirror as Amy made her statement. Subdued and exhausted, now that Willow's actions had sunk in, Amy quietly admitted to killing Matthias and Dunning to set up Buffy Summers out of a desire for vengeance on an old high school rival. She hadn't asked for a lawyer, and had sent Clarence away when the demon had offered to help her out.

Clarence stood next to Buffy, with Willow, Giles and Horatio, watching as Calleigh Duquesne took Amy's statement. "She should have let me help out," the lawyer sighed. "We could have got an inthanity defence easily."

"Uh, tried to kill Willow and everyone else and make it look like I did it?" Buffy reminded him. "Why would you help out the Wicked Witch of Miami?"

"Because everyone deserves a defence," Clarence said with a shrug. "I'm a lawyer, this is what I do. But, since I'm not needed, I'll be off. Miss Thummers, it's been an honour to meet you. Mr Giles, Miss Rothenberg, if you need my help again, please don't hesitate to ask. The Slayer is always a valued client."

He walked away and Buffy shook her head. "Really never thought I'd like a demon lawyer."

"Maybe the demon bit and the lawyer bit cancel each other out for evilness?" Willow suggested.

"I don't actually want an explanation of the 'demon lawyer' comment, do I?" Horatio asked, amused despite himself. In the aftermath of Amy's arrest, Eric and Ryan had sworn that nothing unusual had happened at all, just that Amy had admitted to murder and had a screaming match with Willow and Buffy. Horatio had wondered at the sudden amnesia, but Giles had told him a little of Sunnydale and the weirdness perception filter that most people seemed to live with. "But I do want a few explanations."

Calleigh came out of the interview room before Buffy had a chance to respond and sighed. "She's not making a lot of sense, Horatio. Said something about a goddess being angry with her."

"We'll let the DA have fun trying this one," he told her. "Our job's done. We caught the bad guy."

"Yeah. Buffy, I'm really sorry about, well…"

"Arresting me?"

"Yeah." Calleigh grinned at the blonde. "But I hope you can forgive us."

"Nah. It's no big." Buffy turned back to look at Amy again. "What's going to happen to her?"

"Life without parole," Horatio said firmly and Buffy shuddered.

"So we're off the weird 'magic made me do it' fixation, right, Horatio? That was just frustration talking about not getting a break. You didn't really think magic made us focus on that piece of glass, did you?" Calleigh teased lightly.

Horatio looked at Willow and Buffy for a long moment before he shook his head. "Too much work and too little sleep, Cal. That's my only excuse." He waited until the petite blonde had shaken her head, and gone to complete the paperwork on Amy before he turned back to the others. "My office. Now."

"So, I'm guessing you're after the full explanation," Buffy said awkwardly when they were safely behind closed doors.

"That would be appreciated."

"Giles? You do so love doing the 'one girl' speech," Buffy said with a grin.

"Hardly," he said dryly. "But since I think Lieutenant Caine would probably prefer his explanation in coherent sentences, it really should be me that explains. Where to begin? Well, after the last few days, I hardly need to tell you that magic and demons really exist."

"I think I got that when the bush grew legs and attacked my CSI," Horatio replied, his tone as dry as Giles'.

"Yes, well, we did try to keep you away from that. Magic exists, demons exist, vampires exist. And Buffy stops them."

"Because she's a Vampire Slayer, whatever one of those is?"

"Indeed." Giles narrowed his eyes, trying to think how best to present the explanation they had decided on, in the brief journey back to CSI. It simply wasn't practical to give Caine everything, despite how helpful he'd been. Too many lives depended on secrecy. "A Vampire Slayer is an extraordinary young woman-"

"That's me! I'm extraordinary!" Willow snickered at Buffy's jubilant tone and nudged her friend none too gently in the side. "Giles said it first, Willow!"

"Thank you, Buffy," Giles said with a fond roll of his eyes. "A Slayer is gifted with strength, speed and agility that means she can fight the demons. If you went up against a vampire alone, Lieutenant, you'd be dead. Simple as that. Buffy fights them."

Horatio opened his mouth, frowned, and paused before he spoke. "Buffy said this was the 'one girl' speech. She does this alone?"

"Er... basically. We help," Willow offered. "Giles is Buffy's Watcher, which means he helps her train, and I can make with the magic, and we have a couple of other friends who have been known to, you know, fight a bit, so Buffy totally has backup."

"But she's, I mean, you're..." He paused again. "I saw some extraordinary things today, Buffy, and I fully accept that you have skills beyond those of a normal person, but you do this on your own?"

"There's a couple of others," Buffy admitted. "But that's where it sort of gets complicated. What you need to know is that badness of this type is stopped by me and my friends. And there's not a great deal else to say."

Horatio arched one eyebrow. "I somehow doubt that. I, for one, have at least ten questions that I can think of off the top of my head."

"Lieutenant, think about your team," Giles said softly. "They are happier not knowing. Do you not think that maybe you would be the same?"

"But I know different and it's too late now."

"I'm afraid that is simply all you're going to get," Giles said firmly.

"Two final questions then. Allow me that for the sake of my curiosity."

"Go on."

"The glass circle that my team all became obsessed with: could that have been caused by magic?"

Giles looked to Willow, who nodded definitely. "Oh yes, that sort of compulsion spell would have been relatively easy compared with the memory magic Amy used on Buffy. And it makes great sense. If she kept you from looking at any other evidence, then you couldn't find the evidence that Buffy didn't do it. Kinda clever, really."

"Genius," Buffy said sharply.

"Hey, not on her side here, just saying it was pretty clever."

"True," Horatio acknowledged. "My second question: how do I get in touch if I come across a vampire, or demon, or anything like this? If you're the experts, fine, but I need to know how to call in the experts."

"My card," Giles said, handing him a plain white card with a single telephone number printed on it in black.

"And I can't persuade you to tell me anything more?" He waited until all three shook their heads and then stood up, holding out his hand to shake theirs. "Well then, ladies, Mr Giles. Try to stay out of trouble for the rest of your stay and please don't take it the wrong way when I say I hope never see you again."

"None taken and right back at you," Buffy grinned.

* * *

The three Scoobies walked out CSI into the bright Miami sunshine and Buffy heaved a heartfelt sigh of relief. She was free and clear and never going to take her freedom for granted ever again. When she thought how close she had come to being in prison, and thinking that she deserved to be in prison, it made her even look forward to going back to her little place in Hackney, dodgy area of London or not.

"You think that will stop him getting too involved?" Willow asked. "He seemed to give in fairly easily back there."

"I have no doubts that Lieutenant Caine will remain interested in vampires and Slayers," Giles admitted, "but I hope his day job will keep him occupied enough to distract him. I'll have one of our people keep an eye out, just in case."

"Enough talking cops," Buffy decreed, linking arms with Willow as they strolled away. "Now what? I feel the urge for a little dancing. Giles, feel free to come up with an excuse _not_ to come with us."

"Oh I will," he replied. "But first, I believe there is a young Slayer who still wants some backup. Alejandra and her nest of vampires. Remember?"

"Giles!" Buffy whined. "You're going to make me go straight back to work without any breaks? Come on! I nearly went Shawshank Redemption on you guys. I'm due a night off."

"Vampires first," he said firmly.

"But then party?"

"Then party."

"You up for that, Wills? There's tons of hot girls in Miami, plenty of eye-candy," Buffy tempted her.

"I guess." She paused and bit her lip. "I'm not like Amy, am I?"

"No more than Buffy is like Faith," Giles assured her

"Hey!"

"Buffy, you and Faith have a lot in common," he explained. "But she never had your support network of your mother and friends. Without them, you might have become like her. Amy never had your friends, Willow, and that is what stopped you from turning into her. Both of you should be very grateful to each other. Without each other, you might have been tempted to be so much less than you are."

Buffy stared before hugging Giles tightly. "We had you too, you know." She felt Willow set up behind her and hug both of them.

"Yeah, Giles. We had you."

"And I have you two," he smiled. "And Xander and Dawn and Faith and even Andrew. All in all, I count myself very lucky."

"Speaking of, we're not going to tell Dawn and Xander and the others that I sort of got arrested, are we?"

"Of course not," Giles said immediately. "Unless, of course, you're being particularly obstructive and I feel the need for a little blackmail."

"Giles!"

Willow laughed as she watched Giles tease Buffy. Amy had shaken her, the way she had come so close to losing control again. Clearly, she needed to do a little more meditation and control exercises. But she hadn't totally lost control, she reminded herself. In the end, she had used only the cleanest magic to take Amy's power from her. She could still feel the after-effects of the white magic in her system, giving her a mild buzz.

For now, she was happy to simply be with her friends, who had such total faith in her.

* * *

Buffy walked back into the conference room at the Watchers' new headquarters, Giles and Willow behind her, and stopped in shock.

Banners hung from the ceiling and the walls were covered in posters of prison movies - _Cool Hand Luke, The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, Con Air_- with Dawn and Xander standing beneath the biggest banner, the one that said, 'Free the Sunnydale One!'

"Giles, you said you wouldn't tell them!"

"I didn't."

"Riley did," Dawn explained with a wide grin.

"You're looking very jailhouse-buff, Buff," Xander teased. "We have all manner of prison goodies for you: freedom fries, themed cakes, mucho popcorn and of course…" He pressed play on the stereo and Elvis Presley started to sing _Jailhouse Rock_.

Buffy looked stern as she helped herself to a cupcake with prison bars on in pink icing, but had to collapse in giggles as Xander grabbed Willow and started to dance to the music. Dawn hugged her sister tightly.

"We were worried," she murmured, as they watched Giles get roped into dancing as well. "Not that you were guilty, but that we might not find a way of proving your innocence."

"I know, Dawnie. I admit to being freaked by the whole thing."

"But Amy's locked up now, right?"

"Lieutenant Caine said so, and he seems to know what he's doing."

"And he knows about you?"

"Yeah, but the rest of his team caught Sunnydale Syndrome," Buffy shrugged. "Giles said he'd keep an eye on him, you know, just in case, but he's just one guy."

"So were you. Well, just one girl," Dawn corrected. "You know, until the whole Scythe thing. One girl in all the world."

"No," Buffy said, her arm around her sister, watching Xander and Willow dance around Giles. "I was never just one girl. I was never on my own."

* * *

Horatio watched as Amy Madison was set free and escorted by her lawyer into a limousine. She spotted him, smiled wickedly and waved over at him, the lawyer echoing her movement. How the hell had she walked on this? His anger was simmering dangerously as he stalked into the DA's office. For once uncaring if his anger showed on his face, he slammed the door closed.

"Tell me this is a stupid rumour, that I imagined that scene out there."

"Lieutenant…."

"Tell me you did not let her go."

"Lieutenant…."

"We had a confession," Horatio snapped. "A confession, her voice on the 911 call and a DNA match. How could you let her go?"

"Her lawyers had our evidence suppressed. Without the physical evidence, and since she retracted her confession, the judge threw the case out. We had nothing, Caine."

"We gave you everything!"

"And I don't blame you or your lab. It was Amy Madison's lawyers, that was all."

"And who were they?"

"Wolfram and Hart."


End file.
